UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


MUSICAL 

INTERPRETATION 

ITS   LAWS   AND    PRINCIPLES,    AND 
THEIR  APPLICATION  IN 

TEACHING  AND  PERFORMING 


BY 

TOBIAS   MATTHAY 

(professor,  lecturer  and  fellow  of  the  royal  academy  of  music, 
london,  author  of      the  act  of  touch,"   "first  prin- 
ciples,"     some  commentaries  on  piano  playing," 
relaxation   studies,"      the  child'8  first 
steps,"    'the  rotation  element,"  etc. 
founder  of  the  tobias  matthay 
pianoforte  school,  london.) 


New  and  Enlarged  Edition 


jk 


Soi.k  Agents  foh  U.  S.  A. 

THE    BOSTON    MUSIC    COMPANY 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


Copyright,  1913, 

BY 

TOBIAS  MATTHAY 

for  all  countries 

B.M.Oo.5713. 


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MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


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PREFACE 


Fob  many  years  past  I  have  been  urged  to  put  into  a 
permanent  and  available  form  my  enunciation  of  those 
Principles  and  Laws  of  Interpretation,  knowledge  of  which 
has  proved  to  be  one  of  the  main  causes  of  the  success  of  the 
army  of  teachers  who  have  arisen  from  my  school. 

The  first  step  towards  this  end  was  the  preparation,  in 
the  year  1909,  of  a  set  of  Lectures  covering  this  ground. 
These  I  condensed  later  into  a  single  lecture,  and  this  was 
first  delivered  publicly  in  Manchester  to  Dr.  Carroll's  Asso- 
ciation of  Teachers  during  the  season  of  1909-10.  Subse- 
quently, it  was  repeated  to  the  Edinburgh  Musical  Education 
Society,  to  the  London  Music  Teachers'  Association  (in 
1910)  and  its  Branches;  it  was  also  given  at  the  Royal 
Academy  of  Music  in  the  same  year,  and  at  my  own  School, 
and  elsewhere. 

A  full  synopsis  also  appeared  in  the  "Music  Student"  of 
April,  1911,  and  elsewhere.  I,  nevertheless,  still  delayed 
issuing  the  material  in  book  form,  as  I  felt,  in  view  of  the 
extreme  importance  of  the  matters  dealt  with,  that  I  would 
like  to  expand  it,  but  lack  of  time  has  prevented  my  doing  so. 

As,  however,  some  of  our  more  up-to-date  theorists  are 
now  doing  me  the  honor  to  apply,  in  their  recent  works, 
some  of  the  ideas  first  enunciated  in  these  lectures  of  mine 
(and  in  my  "First  Principles,"  1905,  and  "Act  of  Touch," 
1903)  such,  for  instance,  as  the  vital  one  of  recognizing  in 
Progression  or  Movement  the  actual  basis  of  all  Rhythm  and 
Shape  in  Music.  I  feel  compelled  to  issue  these  lectures  now 
as  originally  delivered.  Additional  matter  is  given  in  the 
form  of  Notes;  and  I  leave  for  later  on,  perhaps,  the  issue 


VI  PREFACE 

of  a  Supplement  giving  further  details  and  illustrative 
Examples. 

It  will  be  found,  that  while  this  work  deals  with  the  sub- 
ject mainly  from  the  pianist's  point  of  view,  nevertheless 
most  of  the  principles  here  formulated  apply  with  equal 
force  to  all  other  forms  of  musical  performance.  Many  of 
the  same  laws  of  Interpretation  which  apply  to  Piano- 
forte playing  also  hold  good  whether  we  are  players  of 
stringed  instruments  or  wind  instruments,  or  are  vocalists, 
organ-players  or  conductors.  We  cannot  play  even  on 
a  penny  whistle  without  coming  under  the  sway  of  such 
laws!  Hence  I  hope  that  this  little  volume  may  prove 
helpful  to  all  music-teachers  and  would-be  performers, 
artists  as  well  as  students,  whatever  their  specialty.1 

Some  of  the  main  points  here  dealt  with  are:  (a)  the 
difference  between  letting  a  pupil  shift  for  himself  and 
helping  him  to  learn;  (6)  the  difference  between  mere 
cramming  and  real  teaching;  (c)  the  difference  between 
merely  making  a  pupil  "do  things"  and  teaching  him  to 
think  —  to  the  end  that  he  may  know  what  to  do,  why  to 
do  it,  and  how  to  do  it ;  (d)  the  exposition  of  the  true  nature 
of  Rhythm  and  Shape  in  Music  —  as  Progression  or  Move- 
ment towards  definite  landmarks;  (e)  the  true  nature  of 
Rubato  in  all  its  forms,  small  and  large,  simple  and  com- 
pound, and  the  laws  of  its  application;  (/)  consideration 
of  the  element  of  Duration,  and,  allied  to  this,  rules  as  to 
the  application  of  the  damper-pedal;  also,  rules  as  to  the 
application  of  Tone- variety,  Fingering,  Memorizing,  etc., 
and  some  speculations  as  to  the  ultimate  reason  of  the 
power  that  Music  has  over  us. 

To  prevent  misunderstanding,  I  must  at  once  state  that 
I  do  not  claim  that  artists  are  "made"  by  the  mere  enun- 

1  Helpful  even  to  the  operators  of  mechanical  pianos. 


PREFACE  VU 

ciation  and  teaching  of  such  laws  and  principles  as  here 
given,  or  by  those  of  instrumental  technique  —  although 
no  success  can  be  attained  without  obedience  to  these 
same  laws  and  principles.  No,  the  really  great  artist 
always  has  been,  is  now,  and  ever  will  be,  a  most  rare 
phenomenon.  His  advent  depends  on  so  many  things 
uniting  in  one  single  individual  —  the  highest  gifts  of 
imagination  and  invention,  therefore  high  mental  powers 
(yes,  the  really  great  artist  must  also  have  high  reasoning 
power),  physical  and  mental  endurance,  extreme  enthusiasm 
for  his  chosen  art,  good  health,  and  the  opportunities  to 
acquire  the  requisite  skill  to  work  in  strict  obedience  to  the 
laws  of  his  art. 

Hence,  it  is  not  claimed  that  the  truthful  Analysis  and 
Synthesis  of  art  or  its  technique  can  transform  dullards 
into  poets  and  seers,  but  what  has  been  amply  proven  is, 
that  such  teachings  do  inevitably  help  the  ordinary  student 
to  succeed  in  attaining  to  far  higher  ideals  than  he  could 
have  reached  without  such  help,  and  that  the  "heaven- 
born"  Genius  (when  he  does  appear)  has  many  years  of 
useful  life  added  to  his  career,  years  otherwise  wasted  in 
futile  experiments,  while  his  path  towards  still  higher  per- 
fections is  thus  rendered  possible  and  easy  —  and  his  appre- 
ciation of  truth  in  art  made  more  sound.  Such  teaching 
therefore  makes  for  Progress,  not  only  in  Music  but  in 
Life  itself. 

In  thanking  the  many  who  have  encouraged  me  to  under- 
take the  publication  of  this  little  work,  I  must  also  again 
thank  Mrs.  Kennedy-Fraser,  of  Edinburgh,  for  her  invalu- 
able help  with  my  proofs. 

Tobias  Matthay 

Haslemebe,  September,  1912 


CONTENTS 


SECTION  I 

INTRODUCTORY 

Some  General  Principles  op  Teaching  and  Learning  paoe 

Preface v 

Points  selected  for  elucidation 1 

General  attitude  of  the  teacher 2 

The  learner  can  only  be  helped  to  learn 2 

The  first  law  of  teaching 2 

The  most  usual  fault  of  the  teacher 3 

Both  teacher  and  pupil  must  learn  to  think 3 

How  to  practice 4 

The  danger  of  Automaticity 4 

The  danger  of  not  really  listening 5 

"  Listening  "  denned 5 

Automatic  practice  useless,  even  for  techniques 5 

We  do  not  really  see  or  hear  unless  we  analyse 6 

As  to  ear-training,  good  and  bad 7 

Definition  of  real  practice 8 

Constant  process  of  analysis  proved  necessary 9 

"Genius"  implies  natural  concentration  on  one's  work 9 

Practice  implies  study 9 

By  learning  concentration  we  can  all  approximate  to  the  Genius  level  10 

Not  only  concentration  but  imagination  necessary 10 

The  imaginative  power  must  be  trained 10 

The  forms  of  analysis  necessary  in  teaching 11 

The  use  of  Example 12 

The  artist  as  teacher 13 

The  informative  and  the  non-informative  types  of  mind 13 

The  teacher  must  be  artistic 14 

Why  unaided  example  will  not  suffice 14 

Example  v.  Explanation 15 

The  necessity  of  Enthusiasm 17 

ix 


X  CONTENTS 

nam 

Bad  and  good  teaching 18 

Cramming  v.  real  teaching 19 

To  render  a  pupil  "musical" 20 

Bad  and  good  conducting 20 

Teaching  v.  cramming  again 21 

Make  sure  of  your  diagnosis  before  correcting  a  fault 21 

Concrete  cases  as  examples 22 

Correction  of  inaccuracy  as  to  Time-details 24 

Playing  out  of  time  implies  lack  of  attention 24 

Uselessness  of  the  Metronome  as  a  Time-teacher 24 

Faults  arising  from  bad  touch  habits 25 

How  to  correct  a  wrong  tempo 26 

The  causes  of  faults  must  always  be  made  clear 26 

True  education 27 


SECTION   II 

The  Nature  op  Musical.  Attention  and  or  Musical  Shape 

Attention  through  key-resistance  and  time 28 

Meaning  of  "Time-spot " 29 

The  Act  of  Thought,  or  Attention,  itself  implies  a  rhythmical  act 30 

Also  see  pp.  41,  59,  and  section  VI. 

Similarity  between  playing  out  of  time  and  playing  out  of  tune 30 

"  Grip  "  in  performance 31 

As  to  Time-training 31 

As  to  the  interpretation  of  the  term  "  Rhythm  " 31 

Correct  ideas  of  Time  and  Shape  in  Music 32 

Progression  and  movement  analogous  in  Music  and  Painting 32 

The  origin  of  our  sense  of  Pulse 32 

The  progressional  view  of  music  v.  the  old  segmental  view 34 

The  difference  between  the  old  segmental  view  of  structure,  and  the  ■pro- 
gressional view  of  musical  structure 35 

Some  examples  of  the  Progressional  view  of  structure 36 

The  incorrect  notation  of  bar-lines 38 

As  to  Nomenclature  of  structural  details 39 

Harmonic  movement  necessary 40 

The  process  of  Memorizing  also  depends  upon  Progression 41 

Deliberate  indefiniteness  in  composition 42 

How  to  apply  one's  memory 42 

Memory-failure 42 

The  various  kinds  of  musical  memory 43 

The  necessity  of  muscular  memory  and  its  dangers 43 


CONTENTS  XI 

PAGE 

SOent  practice 43 

To  prevent  slithering 44 

Inaccuracy  in  the  sub-divisions  of  the  pulses  owing  to  non-perception  of 

the  Element  of  Progression 46 

Progression  always  towards  climax  of  phrase  in  spite  of  decreacendo 47 

Passages  broken  between  hands;  correct  thinking  of  them 49 

Broken  passages,  technical  errors 51 

Wrong  Bass  notes  —  and  other  notes 53 

Progression  in  its  larger  swings 54 

Warning  against  purely  mechanical  "scanning" 54 

To  keep  the  whole  in  view  is  a  question  of  memory 56 

"Thinking  the  Whole"  expounded 56 

Perception  of  a  new  composition 57 

The  cause  of  stammering  unmusically 59 


SECTION  III 

The  Element  of  Rubato 

-  Tempo-continuity,  why  necessary 60 

Continuity  also  depends  upon  tonal  and  emotional  planning-out 60 

True  nature  of  Rubato  usually  quite  misunderstood 61 

Rubato  is  no  mystery,  it  is  not  "silent-sound"  not  "telepathy" 61 

Ritardandos  and  Acellerandos  are  not  Rubato 62 

The  true  rationale  of  Rubato 63 

Time-curves  constantly  required 63 

Rubato  in  modern  music 64 

Rubato  in  older  music 65 

Fallacy  re  the  old  masters  being  unemotional 65 

In  giving  emotional  life,  Shape  must  not  be  lost  sight  of 66 

When  to  teach  and  learn  Rubato 67 

The  problem  of  music  for  Children 67 

The  two  distinct  fundamental  forms  of  Rubato: 

(I)  The  "leaning"  Rubato 70 

Rubato  supplies  the  strongest  forms  of  emphasis 70 

(II)  The  "push-on"  Rubato 71 

The  two  forms  may  be  combined 71 

Ritardandos  and  Accellerandos  marked  in  text,  often  found  to  be  incor- 
rectly noted  Rubatos 71 

The  exact  position  of  the  return  to  the  pulse  must  be  noted 72 

The  cause  of  the  Rubato  also  to  be  noted 72 

Rubato  allows  a  phrase-climax  to  be  shown  in  decrescendo 72 


Xll  CONTENTS 

PAoa 

Fallacy  regarding  position  of  phrase-climax 73 

Attack  of  phrase 73 

Various  forms  of  Rubato  illustrated: 

(I)  The  more  usual  form,  or  "leaning"  Rubato 74 

All  Means  of  Expression  must  always  be  applied  solely  to  express  Music 
74,  and  pp.  79,  120,  121,  and  Section  VI. 

Tone-amount  varies  with  note-lengths  in  uneven  passages 75 

In  a  slow  movement,  tone  for  the  quicker  notes  is  reduced  from  a  high 

background 76 

In  a  quick  movement  the  reverse  process  applies 76 

Further  examples  of  "leaning"  Rubato 78 

Rubato-inflections  must  always  be  carried  out  subtly 79 

Example  of  Rubato-analysis  —  the  first  two  bars  of  Chopin's  ballade  in 

A  flat 80 

Example  of  Rubato  showing  trend  of  phrase  in  spite  of  diminuendo ....  82 

Example  of  Rubato  showing  cross-accent 83 

Again,  the  importance  of  "scanning" 84 

Rubato  required  to  depict  agitation 86 

Always  shapeful,  however  veiled  the  shapes 86 

Definiteness,  Decision,  best  expressed  without  Rubato  inflections 87 

Illustrations  of  these  Distinctions  emotionally 87-89 

Mis-scanning  of  Chopin's  Scherzos  again 87,  89 

Illustrations  of  Rubato  continued : 

(II)  The  push-on  or  inverted  Rubato 92 

Examples  of  the  combination  of  the  two  forms  of  Rubato 97 

Modern  Rubato  examples  from  Beethoven 102 

Rubato  can  show  accent  on  a  rest  or  tied  note 104 

Rubato  always  in  the  nature  of  a  curve,  never  a  time-spike 104 

Always  keep  in  view  Musical  Purpose,  during  Rubato-inflections 105 

Also  see  pp.  99,  79 


SECTION  IV 

Concerning  Certain  Details  in  the  Application  of  Tone-inflection 

and  the  Bearing  of  Touch-teaching  and  Fingering,  etc.,  on 

Interpretation 

The  importance  of  Rubato  does  not  detract  from  the  importance  of  Tone 

and  Duration  Contrasts 107 

Lack  of  tone-variety  often  not  realised  by  the  teacher 107 

Need  of  accurate  listening  and  analysing  again  demonstrated 108 

Want  of  true  pp  is  mostly  the  cause  of  deficiency  in  coloring 109 


CONTENTS  Xlll 

PAOB 

After  a  long  note,  the  continuation  of  the  same  phrase  is  often  played  too 

loudly 110 

Cut  away  the  tone  to  render  certain  notes  prominent 110 

The  individualisation  and  balance  of  the  constituent  notes  of  chords, 

octaves,  etc 112 

An  exercise  for  tonal  individualisation 112 

^~Les8  force  required  to  produce  the  higher  notes  than  the  lower  notes  of 

the  Piano 115 

The  tonal  emphasising  of  melody  notes  should  not  lead  to  tasteless 

agoggic  accents 115 

The  bearing  of  the  teaching  of  Touch,  etc.,  upon  the  teaching  of  Inter- 
pretation    117 

/  Command  over  Interpretation  implies  command  over  technical  resources  117 
Obedience  to  the  laws  of  Touch  and  Technique  must  constantly  be  in- 
sisted upon 117 

Knowledge  of  the  laws  of  Touch  and  Technique  necessary  even  for  the 

beginner 118 

Points  as  to  Touch  requiring  constant  reminder 119 

Musical  and  Technical  Attention  must  never  be  allowed  to  flag  while  giv- 
ing attention  to  the  details  of  Muscular  Education 120 

The  bearing  of  Fingering  on  Interpretation,  and  the  learning  of  its  laws . .  121 

Fingering,  also,  must  not  be  "crammed" 122 

Its  proper  teaching 122 

The  Memorising  of  Fingering 122 

Scale  fingerings,  single  and  double  notes 123 


SECTION  V 

As  to  Pedalling  and  the  Element  op  Dubatcon 

Just  as  close  attention  required  for  the  foot  as  for  the  finger 125 

Most  pedalling  a  mass  of  blemishes 125 

Examples  of  bad  pedalling 126 

Not  enough  to  feel  the  breaks  between  the  phrasings  clearly,  one  must 

play  them  clearly 126 

Inadequacy  of  Pedal-discontinuity 127 

Accuracy  in  Duration-effects  depends  immediately  upon  accuracy  in 

listening 128-129 

Value  of  Duration-contrasts  insufficiently  realised 129 

Gradations  of  Tone  and  Duration  contrasted 130 

Pedal-durations  more  important  than  Finger-durations 130 

Pedal  enhances  actual  prolongation  of  sounds 131 

"Syncopated"  pedalling 131 


XIV  CONTENTS 

PA«a 

Why  syncopated  pedalling  is  required 132 

Legatissimo  pedalling 133 

Echo-resonance  of  a  Hall  different  from  pedal  continuity 133 

Examples  of  Legatissimo  Pedalling 133 

Pedal  must  rise  fully 134 

Pedal  must  remain  up  long  enough 134 

Half-damping  effects 135 

The  "Sostenente"  Pedal 135 

Half-pedalling  applied  to  whole  chords 136 

Cessation  of  sound  as  a  form  of  emphasis 136 

Examples  of  this 137-140 

Imperative  to  listen  accurately  and  constantly  to  Duration 141 

Various  additional  Pedalling  examples 141-146 

Chopin's  Pedalling 143,  144  and  89 

Listen  both  to  finger  and  to  foot-doings 146 

Attention  during  Performance 147 

SECTION  VI 

The  Purpose  of  Art-expression  and  Its  Relation  to  the  Infinite 

The  ever-present  danger  of  forgetting  the  End  over  the  Means 148 

The  Purpose  of  Art  is  the  expression  of  Feeling 148 

Art-moods  which  make  for  Good  and  which  make  for  Evil 149 

Health  and  Mood 150 

The  nature  of  Music,  its  relation  to  all-pervading  Rhythm,  and  its  rela- 
tion to  the  ultimately  Unknowable 151 

Summary:  Report  of  Lecture  on  "  The  Principles  of  Teaching  Interpre- 
tation"  154-163 

ADDITIONAL  NOTES 

No.      I. — On  Half-Pedalling  and  Half-Damping 164 

(To  follow  page  135) 

No.    II. — On  the  Colouring  of  Octaves  and  Passing-Notes 166 

(To  follow  Example  726,  page  114) 

No.  III. — Tone-Colouring  v.  Tone-Inflection 167 

(To  follow  first  paragraph  of  page  117) 


MUSICAL 

INTERPRETATION 


SECTION  I 
INTRODUCTORY 


SOME  GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  OF  TEACHING 
AND  LEARNING 

The  teaching  of  Interpretation  is  so  complex  a  problem 
that  at  a  first  glance  it  seems  hopeless  to  try  to  cover  the 
ground  in  one  or  two  short  lectures.  All  one  can  do  is  to 
select  some  few  of  the  more  salient  points,  points  in  regard 
to  which  the  young  teacher  or  performer  (and  often  the 
older  one)  is  most  apt  to  fail.  This,  then,  is  what  I 

propose  doing,  it  being  understood  that  no  attempt  is  here 
made  to  treat  the  subject  exhaustively. 

The  main  points  I  have  selected  are: 

(1)  The  difference  between  Practice  and  mere  Strum- 

ming. 

(2)  The  difference  between  Teaching  and  Cramming. 

(3)  How  one's  mind  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  one's 

work. 

(4)  Correct  ideas  of  Time  and  Shape. 

(5)  The  element  of  Rubato  and  its  application. 

(6)  The  elements  of  Duration  and  Pedalling  and  their 

application. 

(7)  Incidentally,  some  details  as  to  the  application  of 

the  element  of  Tone-variety. 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


General  at- 
titude of 
teacher. 


The  learner 
can  only  be 
helped  to 
learn. 


The  first  law 
of  teaching. 


It  is  impossible,  however,  to  make  clear  even  these  par- 
ticular essentials  of  teaching,  without  first  taking  a  cursory 
glance  at  the  whole  problem  —  the  general  attitude  of  the 
teacher  towards  those  he  wishes  to  help.  To  begin  with, 
let  us  recognise  the  fact,  that,  accurately  speaking,  we 
cannot  "teach"  anyone  anything  —  in  the  sense  of  our 
being  able  directly  to  lodge  any  knowledge  of  ours  in  another 
mind. 

All  we  can  really  do  is  to  stimulate  another  mind  to  wish 
to  learn,  and  suggestively  to  place  before  that  other  mind 
the  things  which  it  is  desirable  should  be  apprehended.  It 
is  always  the  other  mind  which  has  to  make  the  effort  to 
apprehend,  and  unless  that  effort  is  made  nothing  can  be 
learnt. 

We  cannot  teach  others,  but  we  can  help  them  to  learn. 
In  fact,  I  will  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  unless  we  teachers  do 
recognise  this  fundamental  truth,  we  cannot  hope  to  begin 
to  succeed  in  our  vocation.  We  shall  also  see  that  one  of 
the  very  points  I  wish  to  insist  upon  is  closely  allied  to 
this  truth.     Let  me  at  once  state  it  here: 

Good  teaching  consists  not  in  trying  to  make  the  pupil 
do  things  so  that  the  result  of  his  efforts  shall  seem  like  play- 
ing, but  consists  in  trying  to  make  him  think,  so  that  it  shall 
really  be  playing. 

The  good  teacher  does  not  try  to  turn  his  pupil  into  an 
automaton,  but  tries  to  prompt  him  to  grow  into  a  living, 
intelligent  being.    But  more  of  this  anon.1 


1  As  I  shall  explain  later,  the  fallacious  attitude  is,  to  endeavor  to 
use  our  will  and  intelligence  so  that  the  doings  of  our  pupil's  fingers  may 
sound  plausible,  whereas  the  correct  attitude  is  to  use  our  intelligence  so 
that  the  pupil  will  all  the  time  use  his  own  intelligence  and  his  own  will, 
and  may  thus  learn  to  guide  his  fingers  correctly,  alike  musically,  and 
technically. 


INTRODUCTORY  3 

Undoubtedly,  one  of  the  first  things  we  have  to  combat  The  most 
in  a  pupil  is  the  wish  to  be  saved  all  trouble  and  effort,  usual  fault  oi 
and  to  have  the  "learning"  done  by  the  teacher.    Indeed,  the8tudenL 
the  ordinary  pupil  invariably  starts  with  the  notion,  that 
all  he  has  to  do  is  to  be  passive  and  "receptive"  —  like 
a  laboratory  funnel  with  mouth  widely  gaping,  ready  to 
receive  any  chemicals  (pleasant  or  otherwise)   which  the 
operating  chemist  may  see  fit  to  pour  in.     This  attitude 
must  be  at  once  kindly  but  firmly  combated,  and  the  pupil 
must  be  made  to  see,  that  it  is  for  him  to  try  to  learn,  for  him 
to  try  to  apprehend  and  to  assimilate  those  things  to  which 
the  teacher  is  anxious  to  call  his  attention. 

Certainly,  there  are  direct  and  there  are  indirect  (or 
empirical)  methods  of  teaching  in  all  branches  of  education; 
and,  as  you  know,  I  claim  that  my  teaching-methods  are 
direct — but  we  now  see  that  this  "directness"  can  refer 
solely  to  the  method  of  placing  things  before  a  pupil. 

The  first  general  conclusion  we  are  thus  driven  to  accept  Both  teacher 
is  the  need  for  purposeful  brain-use,  on  the  part  of  both  and  pupu 
teacher  and  pupil.  With  regard  to  the  pupil,  not  ti^Bk  e 

only  is  brain-use  (i.e.  reasoning)  imperative  during  lesson- 
time,  it  is  even  more  imperative  during  the  practice-hour 
when  there  is  no  help  available  from  outside.  How 
often  indeed  do  we  find  the  pupil's  work  brought  back 
worse  than  at  a  preceding  lesson,  in  spite  of  what  would 
seem  to  have  been  most  judiciously  thought-out  and  care- 
fully worded  advice!  And  why  is  this  so?  Simply,  because 
the  pupil  in  the  interval,  instead  of  really  practising,  has 
tried  with  might  and  main  to  make  himself  (or  herself)  into 
an  automatic  strumming-machine.  Yes,  often  it  is  the 

pupil's  fault,  he  either  will  not,  or  cannot  use  his  brains. 
But  believe  me,  far  more  often  still,  it  is  the  teacher's 
fault,  owing  to  his  not  having  correctly  shown  the  student  how 


ticity. 


4  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

to  use  his  brains  during  practice,  or  not  having  diplomati- 
cally enough  insisted  on  real  practice,  in  place  of  such 
mere  gymnastic  strumming. 

How  to  prac-      The  first  thing  to  do  then,  is  to  give  the  pupil  a  clear  idea 

tice.  of  what  does  constitute  real  practice.1 

The  danger        Remember  that  the  mistaken  desideratum  with  which  the 

of  automa-  student  starts  work  is  just  this,  it  seems  to  him  that  the 
ideal  state  would  be  to  be  able  to  do  without  thinking. 
Often  enough  he  does  try  his  utmost  to  exercise  his  muscles 
in  his  pieces,  his  studies  and  techniques  —  and  he  does  so, 
believing  piano-playing  to  be  a  purely  gymnastic  pursuit  like 
walking  and  running,  etc.  Even  admitting  the  necessity  for 
muscular  automaticity,  he  does  not  realise  that  a  certain 
amount  of  reflection  is  imperative  in  acquiring  it;  that 
walking,  running,  and  breathing,  purely  automatic  as  they 
must  be  in  the  end,  are  all  the  better  for  a  little  reflection 
on  the  right  ways  of  doing  them.2 

The  average  student  then,  if  left  to  himself,  will  assuredly 
try  to  make  himself  into  a  mere  automaton  in  his  practice- 
hour,  from  sheer  horror  of  the  discomfort  and  irksomeness 
of  mental  effort. 

Therefore,  this  is  the  first  and  ever-present  obstacle  with 
which  we  teachers  have  to  contend.  We  must  be  prepared 
to  drive  home  to  the  pupil  that  the  thing  most  to  be  avoided 
is  this  very  automaticity  which  seems  so  attractive  to  him, 

1  Realise,  that  the  average  student  has  a  fixed  idea  that  Piano-practice 
is  a  purely  gymnastic  exercise  —  he  lives  in  the  hope  that  by  going  over 
the  ground  often  enough,  the  piece  may  at  last  "do  itself"  without  his 
thinking  about  it  at  all  —  a  mere  exercising  therefore  of  the  muscles  con- 
cerned. 

8  Even  the  athlete  must  use  his  judgement,  and  those  who  are  too 
lazy  or  decadent  to  do  their  athletics  personally  must  still  give  their 
minds  to  the  exhibited  exercise,  if  they  mean  to  derive  any  interest 
from  it. 


INTRODUCTORY  5 

and  into  which  his  natural  bent  will  only  too  assuredly  lead 
him.  We  may  use  persuasion  or  threats,  coaxing  or  snarl- 
ing, sledge  hammer  or  velvet  paw  upon  him,  but  if  any 
good  work  is  to  be  done,  we  must  in  some  way  or  other 
bring  him  to  avoid  automatic  practice. 

Really,  there  is  nothing  more  fatal  for  our  musical  sense,  The  danger 
than  to  allow  ourselves  —  by  the  hour  —  to  hear  musical  °*  nott  reaUy 
sounds  without  really  listening  to  them;  and  this  holds  true 
whether  the  sounds  are  made   by  ourselves  or  by  others; 
for  unless  we  do  listen  attentively,  we  are  at  that  moment 
inevitably  forming  habits  of  lax  attention.1 

Here  I  must  digress  for  a  moment,  to  make  plainer  what  Listening  de- 
is  meant   by  "really  listening,"  for  we  cannot   get   any  fined* 
further  unless  we  are  quite  clear  on  this  point.     Let  us,  for 
instance,  take  a  page  of  print  or  music.     If  we  turn  our  eyes 
upon  it,  the  light  from  the  page  pours  in  upon  us,  whether 
we  attend  to  its  meaning  or  not.     We  may  realize  that  it  is 

1  To  sound  the  notes  of  a  piece  through  as  a  mere  physical  exercise,  Automatic 
is  not  only  useless  but  positively  harmful  musically;  and  this  applies  practice,  use  - 
as  much  to  the  practice  of  Studies  and  Techniques  as  to  that  of  pieces,        '  ®ven 
for  in  all  repetitions  we  are  always  forming  or  fixing  habits  —  musical    e       que  ' 
ones  and  technical  ones  —  and  it  behooves  us,  therefore,  to  see  to  it  that 
good  habits  and  not  bad  ones  are  being  insisted  upon  —  habits  of  keen 
attention,  for  instance,  and  not  habits  of  laxity  of  attention.    It  must  be 
constantly  insisted  upon,  that  if  we  try  to  make  the  piece,  or  study,  or  tech- 
nical exercise  "go  by  itself,"  this,  so  far  from  being  "practice"  is  indeed 
the  opposite  —  it  is  un-pradice.    For  in  trying  to  turn  ourselves  into 
human  automata  we  are  doing  all  we  can  to  render  it  impossible  for  us 
to  acquire  those  habits  of  mind  —  of  attention  —  which  enable  us  to 
play  with  success;  and  we  shall,  in  the  end,  find  our  head  listening  merely 
to  the  doings  of  our  spine!    And  this  is  no  mere  figure  of  speech,  for  it 
describes  quite  accurately  what  does  occur  in  such  cases;  that  is,  we  here 
have  the  conscious,  could-be  intelligent  brain  engaged  in  merely  noticing 
(instead  of  directing)  the  clockwork  doings  of  our  spinal  or  ganglionic 
centres! 


6  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

a  page  of  print,  we  may  even  read  it  out  aloud,  but  it  con- 
veys no  definite  meaning  until  we  do  bring  our  minds  upon 
it.  We  derive  no  information  from  the  constant  stream  of 
varied  light-impressions  pouring  in  through  the  iris  unless 
we  analyse  the  impressions  made  on  our  nerve-ends;  unless 
we  (consciously  or  unconsciously)  investigate  the  impressions 
there  received,  we  notice  nothing,  learn  nothing,  and  do  not 
really  see  anything.1 

Precisely  so  is  it  with  our  ears,  I  might  say  it  is  even 
more  so,  for  we  cannot  shut  our  physical  ears  as  we  can 
our  eyes.    All  sounds  that  occur  within  earshot  will  cer- 
tainly reach  our  ear-drums  and  the  nerve-ends  of  the  inner 
ear,  whether  we  "listen"  or  not.     But  we  may  derive  from 
this  stream  of  sounds  either  a  mere  vague  impression  that 
some  sort  of  sound  is  occurring,  or  we  may,  if  we  turn  our 
minds  upon  the  sound,  discover  definitely  what  it  consists 
of  and  means. 
We  do  not         We  may,  even  without  attention,  realize  the   fact  that 
really  see  or  some  music  is  being  made,  but'  we  shall  certainly  not  un- 
we  analyse     derstand  a  n°te  of  it,  unless  we  do  purposely,  all  the  time, 
notice  and  in  fact  analyse  the  stream  of  aural-impressions 
pouring  in  upon  us. 

1  An  excellent  experiment  is,  to  turn  our  eyes  upon  a  window  covered 
by  a  light,  diaphanous,  gauzy  curtain.  We  shall  find,  while  keeping  our 
eyes  quite  stationary,  that  we  can  allow  ourselves  to  become  conscious 
either  of  the  pattern  of  the  curtain,  or  of  the  trees  or  other  objects  out- 
side the  window.  True,  a  slight  focussing  adjustment  of  the  iris-muscles 
occurs  in  this  case,  but  the  main,  important  fact  taught  us  is,  that  we 
may  either  notice  the  curtain  itself  or  the  things  beyond  it  at  will.  Which 
of  the  two  we  do  thus  observe  depends  upon  the  direction  we  give  to  our 
powers  of  mental-analysis.  Moreover,  the  things  we  do  not  thus  ana- 
lyse we  also  do  not  observe  —  and  this,  although  the  light  rays  do  pour 
in  upon  us  all  the  time,  both  from  the  curtain  and  from  the  objects 
beyond  it  I 


INTRODUCTORY  7 

No  one  is  quite  so  foolish  as  to  try  to  write  or  draw  with- 
out at  least  taking  the  trouble  to  look  at  the  paper  he  is 
engaged  upon.  Nevertheless,  most  music-students  fail  to 
realise  that  it  is  just  as  idiotic  to  try  to  play  any  musical 
instrument  without  at  least  taking  the  trouble  accurately 
to  listen  to  it  —  all  the  time.1 

Yes,  that  is  where  "Ear-training"  comes  in.    But  how  As  to  ear- 
much  rubbish  is  written  and  talked  in  this  cause  —  a  most  t™""1^. 
righteous  cause,  when  really  understood  and  not  perverted  |ad 
into  faddism.     It  would  seem  that  many  people  imagine 
"Ear-training"  to  be  a  process  of  actually  training  a  por- 
tion of  one's  brain  (previously  otherwise  employed)  to  be 
impressed  by  sounds,  or  a  training  of  the  nerve-ends  of  the 
ear-organ  itself!    Or,  perhaps  even,  a  training  of  the  skin 
and  flesh  itself  —  the  lobes  of  the  outer  ear! 

1  This  is  one  of  the  greatest  difficulties  the  teacher  has  to  contend  with. 
The  average  pupil  does  not  in  the  least  realise  that  he  must  bring 
his  aural  consciousness  on  the  work  in  hand;  neither  will  he  take  the 
trouble  to  judge  what  he  should  do,  nor  how  he  should  do  it,  nor  will  he 
deign  to  listen  to  the  actual  sounds  he  is  making.  Yet  when  he  writes  his 
own  name  he  takes  care  to  "listen  with  his  eyes"  on  the  paper!  And 
even  with  the  best  intention  to  listen  and  attend  properly,  the  student  is 
apt  to  fail.  You  must  explain  to  him  therefore,  that  listening  does  not 
mean  merely  hearing  what  the  automatic  centres  may  manage  to  do,  but 
that  effective  listening  implies  pre-listening  all  the  time  as  to  what  should 
be.  Explain  to  him  that  he  must  certainly  listen  to  all  he  is  doing  — 
every  note,  but  in  the  first  place  he  must  want  every  note  aright.  Say  to 
him  "do  want  all  the  time  —  every  note. "  Be  not  taken  up  with  the  doing, 
but  on  the  contrary  "let  Music  tell  you  what  to  do"  — let  the  piece,  as  it 
goes  along,  suggest  to  you  what  to  do;  then  you  rnay  be  sure  that  you  are 
using  your  Imagination  as  well  as  your  Reason.  When  the  music  seems 
to  tell  you  what  to  do,  then  are  you  using  your  sub-conscious  faculties  as 
you  should  do  eventually. 

In  short:  during  Practice  do  not  try  to  "do,"  but  try  to  learn  to  see; 
during  Performance  you  may  then  be  able  to  see  Music  —  its  Shape, 
Feeling  and  Time-spot,  while  you  compel  your  fingers  to  give  all  this. 


8  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

Granted,  that  training  may  possibly  help  to  sensitise  the 
actual  eas-machine  or  apparatus  —  granted,  also,  that  there 
may  be  a  portion  of  our  brain-matter  more  particularly 
engaged  in  aural  work  —  the  main  point  remains,  and  that 
is,  that  all  ear-training  in  the  first  place  signifies  Mind- 
training:  training  ourselves  to  observe  and  notice  aural  im- 
pressions, training  our  mind  to  make  use  of  the  impressions 
received  through  our  ear-apparatus.  In  short,  Ear-training 
to  be  practical,  must  mean  Mind-training,  musically.  Cer- 
tainly, we  should  teach  children  Ear-attention  from  the 
very  beginning,  and  from  the  simplest  steps  upwards. 
But  what  is  generally  overlooked  is,  that  every  one 
professing  to  teach  any  form  of  musical  performance  must 
insist  on  such  real  Ear-training  all  day  and  every  min- 
ute of  every  day  when  engaged  in  teaching  —  if  it  is  to  be 
real  teaching  at  all.1 
Definition  of  A  passage  must  therefore  never  be  played  through,  no, 
real  practice.  no^.  even  once  through,  except  for  the  express  purpose  of 
really  knowing  that  passage  better;  for  the  purpose  of 
knowing  it  better  not  only  physically,  but  also  mentally  — 
knowing  each  bar  better,  and  the  piece  as  a  Whole  better. 
First,  that  we  may  know  it  better  as  to  its  musical  content 
—  both  as  to  Shape  and  as  to  Feeling;  and  secondly,  that 

1  Under  the  new  faddism,  I  have  heard  of  good  teachers  being  turned 
out  of  schools  on  the  ground  that  they,  personally,  have  not  acquired 
some  particular  stage  of  ear-discrimination,  while  no  enquiry  was  made 
whether  they  were  successful  or  not  in  making  their  pupils  use  their 
minds  aurally.  That  the  teacher  possesses  "absolute  pitch"  (relative 
pitch  is  another  matter!)  is  no  guarantee  whatever  that  the  possessor  is 
in  the  least  musical  or  observant  aurally,  or  knows  how  to  make  others 
observant. 

To  insist  on  such  a  test  is  sheer  folly.  What  should  be  insisted  upon 
w,  that  the  would-be  teacher  knows  how  to  make  his  pupils  use  their  own 
ears. 


INTRODUCTORY  9 

we  may  know  it  better  technically  —  which  means,  that  each 
playing  through  of  it  may  help  us  to  realize  better  what  to 
do  physically,  and  what  to  avoid  doing  physically  at  the 
keyboard.1 

All  this  implies  a  constant  process  of  analysis  —  of  minute  Constant 
analysis  as  to  what  should  be  done  and  what  is  being  done  Pj^essof  *"- 

fllvsis  Droved 

musically  —  and  also,  what  should  be  done  and  is  being  neCessary. 
done  technically. 

Moreover,  this  again  presupposes  a  high  degree  of  con- 
centration of  mind  on  the  part  of  the  pupil,  and  that  pre- 
cisely is  the  requirement  —  full  concentration  of  mind  is 
needed.  Now,  it  is  the  teacher's  very  first  duty  (and  con- 
stant duty)  to  prompt  the  pupil  in  this  direction. 

True,  such  concentration  may  come  almost  "naturally"  "Genius" 
to  the  few  possessors  of  that   concatenation  of   various  implies  natu- 
talents  which  the  public  loosely  gathers  up  into  the  term  ^^  on 
genius;  and  if  we  do  possess  this  so-called  " genius,"  then  one's  work. 

1  Indeed,  there  is  no  practice  worthy  the  name  unless  we  are  all  the  Practice  im- 
while  really  studying;  studying  (or  analysing)  with  a  most  lavish,  but  plies  study. 
carefully  directed  expenditure  of  thought  and  reasoning  —  and  not  one 
single  note  played  without  such  expenditure.  But  a  warning  is  also 
necessary  here.  From  sheer  wish  to  do  right  one  may  err.  One  may 
mistake  caution  for  care.  To  be  cautious  —  to  be  afraid  of  failing  — 
will  only  chill  one  musically,  and  thus  cause  one  to  fail. 

To  be  afraid  of  failure  does  not  constitute  a  care  for  Music  at  all;  on 
the  contrary,  it  is  again  a  form  of  selfishness,  and  as  such  must  therefore 
cause  failure.  To  succeed  in  art  as  in  anything  else  we  must  be  "unselfish," 
—  so  far  as  that  is  possible  to  us  humans  —  we  must  throw  self  overboard, 
and  really  caring  for  art,  we  must  wish  to  do  well  because  art  is  so  beauti- 
ful, so  worthy,  that  any  service  we  can  bring  to  its  shrine  is  as  nothing. 
Thus  we  shall  indeed  take  trouble,  we  shall  be  as  keenly  alert  as  lies 
within  our  power,  not  for  the  sake  of  our  own  aggrandisement,  but  for  the 
sake  of  making  the  Beautiful  attain  to  its  highest  possible  perfection; 
and  our  "carefulness"  will  thus,  so  far  from  chilling  us,  stimulate  us 
musically  to  ever  increasingly  effective  efforts. 


10 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


By  learning 
concentra- 
tion we  can 
all  approxi- 
mate to  the 
genius  level. 


Not  only  con- 
centration 
but  imagina- 
tion neces- 
sary. 


The  imagi- 
native power 
must  be 
trained. 


we  may  possibly  succeed  in  giving  such  close  attention  with- 
out apparent  effort,  for  the  simple  reason,  that  our  bias 
towards  Music  is  so  extreme,  and  Music  is  such  a  keen 
delight  to  us,  such  a  matter  of  life-and-death,  that  it  is  easy 
for  us  to  be  in  this  required  state  of  keen  engrossment,  even, 
maybe,  without  much  prompting  from  the  teacher.  But 
the  teacher  must  ever  be  alert  in  such  rare  cases  —  for  even 
a  genius,  we  find,  has  frequent  lapses  of  attention ! 

Now  it  also  follows,  that  although  our  pupils  may  not 
all  happen  to  be  such  "geniuses,"  we  shall  be  able  to  bring 
them  considerably  nearer  the  genius-status  if  we  can  but 
manage  to  cultivate  in  them  this  habit  of  close  attention. 
Anyway,  to  the  extent  that  we  do  succeed  in  thus  improving 
their  powers  of  musical  attention  or  concentration,  to  that 
extent  they  will  certainly  be  more  musical  —  and  that  is 
the  point  of  the  argument. 

Please  do  not  misunderstand  me  to  maintain  that  such 
power  of  absolute  attention  is  the  attribute  which,  alone, 
constitutes  genius.  Far  from  it!     To  concentration  we 

must  add  vividness  of  imagination.  Here,  indeed,  we  have 
the  most  salient  feature  of  genius  and  of  real  talent — Imagi- 
nation, the  ability  keenly  to  visualise,  or  auralise  things 
apart  from  their  actual  physical  happening  outside  of  us. 

This  more  subtle  faculty,  imaginativeness  —  this  power 
of  pre-hearing  —  can  also  be  cultivated  in  far  greater  meas- 
ure than  is  generally  suspected  to  be  possible.  Obviously 
this  also  is  a  task  which  the  teacher  must  set  himself  to 
undertake,  and  must  succeed  in  to  some  extent,  if  his  pupils 
are  to  provide  any  real  pleasure  to  their  listeners. 

Again,  since  it  is  clear  that  good  practice  implies  a  con- 
stant process  of  analysis,  it  must  be  still  more  clear  that 
teaching  implies  the  same  process,  persistently  and  unre- 
mittingly applied. 


INTRODUCTORY  11 

Now,  in  teaching,  analysis  implies   (broadly  speaking)  The  forms  of 
analysis  in  four  distinct  ways:  analysis  nec- 

*  "  essary  in 

First,  we  must  analyse  what  the  pupil  is  actually  teaming. 

DOING. 

Secondly,   we  must   analyse  the   faults  thereby 

PERCEIVED. 

Thirdly,  we  must  analyse  why  the  pupil  is  making 
those  faults;  and 

Lastly,  we  must  analyse  the  pupil's  attitude  of 
mind,  so  that  we  may  know  how  to  treat  him. 

But  before  we  can  form  any  judgement  at  all,  we  ourselves 
must  know  the  Music  we  wish  to  teach  —  we  must  have 
analysed  that. 

To  be  explicit  on  these  four  points: 

First:  —  We  cannot  become  aware  of  all  there  is  to 
be  corrected,  of  all  the  faults  made  —  and  the  good 
points  made  —  unless  we  constantly  analyse  the  impres- 
sions received  from  the  pupil's  performance;  and  this 
is  what  is  implied  by  saying  that  the  teacher  must 
"really  listen"  all  the  while.1 

Secondly:  —  The  actual  faults  thus  perceived  (through 
such  close  listening)  we  must  again  analyse,  so  that 
we  shall  be  able  to  diagnose  them;  for  it  is  impossible 
to  correct  a  fault  directly  or  with  certainty,  unless  it 
has  been  in  the  first  place  allocated  either  as  a  musical 
fault  or  as  a  muscular  fault,  or  as  one  of  laxity  of 
attention,  etc. 

1  Not  listening,  but  merely  hearing  a  performance,  is  just  as  useless 
in  teaching  as  it  is  when  examining,  or  learning,  or  practising.  As  I 
have  already  said,  it  is  not  enough  merely  to  "hear,"  we  must  really 
listen,  and  plainly  that  means  that  we  must  all  the  while  (to  the  best  of 
our  capacity)  analyse  all  we  hear. 


12  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

Thirdly:  —  We  must  analyse  the  particular  pupil's 
mental  attitude  in  making  the  fault,  so  that  the  fault- 
making  may  be  corrected  at  its  very  root.  For  again, 
the  fault  may  have  arisen,  for  instance,  either  from 
inattention  at  the  moment  or  inattention  during 
practice;  or  its  cause  may  be  traced  to  bad  habits 
muscularly,  etc. 

And  here,  especially,  do  not  let  us  forget  always  to 

insist  that  all  corrections,  whatever  their  nature,  must 

always  be  made  strictly  subservient  to  the  musical 

effects  required  at  the  moment;    else  we  shall  only 

provoke    self-consciousness    in    place    of    the    desired 

correction.     For  instance,  a  muscular  fault  must  never 

be  corrected  as  such,   but  its  musical  bearing  must 

always  be  kept  before  the  pupil  in  each  and  every  case. 

Finally:  —  We  must  all  the  time  closely  analyse  the 

pupil's  general  mental  attitude,  so  that  we  may  be  able 

to  judge  how  best  to  appeal  to  him  (or  impress  him)  so 

that  our  advice  may  be  received  sufficiently  seriously 

as  to  lead  to  its  being  followed. 

The  use  of         While  I  thus  insist  that  both  teacher  and  pupil  must 

ex*mPIe*       constantly  apply  the  analytical  faculty,  while  I  insist  that 

reasons  and  causes  must  constantly  be  made  clear  to  the 

pupil    (musically  and   technically)    nevertheless   I   do   not 

maintain  that  actual  Example,  in  the  form  of  playing,  is 

to   be   contemned.  On   the   contrary,    Example   is 

most  helpful  when  given  in  conjunction  with  explanation, 

especially  with  those  who  have  the  imitative  gift  strongly 

marked,  or  who  can  really  feel  Music  keenly.     Often,  also, 

as  a  last  resort,  it  has  excellent  effect. 

The  mistake  is  to  rely  entirely  upon  Example.  This  can 
lead  only  to  subsequent  disappointment,  and  with  many 
pupils  even  to  disaster,  for  the  tendency,  here  again,  is  to 


INTRODUCTORY  13 

turn  the  pupil  into  an  automatic  machine,  totally  wanting 
in  initiative  and  in  the  where-with-all  to  acquire  self-reliance. 

Here  we  see  the  reason  why  the  public  artist  is,  as  a  rule,  The  artist  as 
so  futile  as  a  teacher  —  futile  for  the  ordinary  student,  since  teacher- 
only  the  extremely  gifted  can  learn  anything  whatever  from 
him.  Such  artist,  as  a  rule,  has  usually  not  the  remotest 
notion  how  or  why  he  does  anything.  Nor  does  he  wish  to 
know;  and  he  therefore  has  to  rely  in  teaching  solely  and 
entirely  on  this  precarious  device  of  exemplification. 
If  he  ever  did  reason  while  learning,  long  ago  has  he  forgotten 
the  process  of  learning.  In  fact,  nothing  is  more  antipathetic 
to  such  artist,  usually,  than  to  be  asked  to  reason  upon 
anything.  .  .  .  Long  habit  has  indeed  made  it  seem  to  him 
that  his  own  doings  have  "come  naturally"  to  him  and 
have  not  been  learnt,  and  must  not  be  taught  —  in  the  way 
one  has  to  learn  everything  else  in  life.  In  fact,  that  it  is  a 
sort  of  sacrilege,  ever  to  want  to  know  or  to  investigate  the 
being  of  Art,  and  that  all  that  anyone  should  ever  venture 
to  do,  is  to  listen  reverently  and  without  question  to  his  — 
the  artist's  —  supposed,  God-given  messages!1 

For  the  ordinary  student  to  derive  any  profit  from  any 
such  exhibition  of  what  may  possibly  happen  to  be  quite 
correct  "doing,"  however,  it  is  evident  that  it  is  he  himself 
who  will  have  to  do  all  the  reasoning  and  analysing  unless 
the  processes  are  explained  to  him  by  some  other  teacher. 

1  One  can,  in  fact,  divide  minds  into  two  distinct  types,  the  informative  The  informa- 
and  the  non-informative,  in  the  sense  of  either  wanting-to-know  or  not  tiveandnon- 
wanting-to-know.    I  fear  the  artist  is  too  often  of  the  last-named  type;  informative 
he  likes  to  feel  and  enjoy,  but  he  loathes  the  troublesome  process  of  learn-  types  of 
ing  to  understand  the  working  of  his  own  machinery.    His  gorge  usually  n1*01*. 
rises  when  there  is  any  question  of  building-up  or  analysing  anything  in 

his  art hence,  also,  the  few  Beethovens,  Bachs,  and  truly  great 

artists  —  and   teachers!    It  is  indeed  a  surprise  and  a  delight  to  find 
occasional  exceptions  to  this  rule. 


14 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


A  teacher 
must  be 
artistic. 


True,  the  student,  if  gifted  with  extreme  musi- 
cal sensitiveness,  may  succeed  in  a  measure  in  giving  a 
photograph  of  what  he  has  heard,  but  even  then  it  will 
probably  be  but  a  pale  or  distorted  version. 

Such  a  great  artist  as  Liszt,  for  instance,  undoubtedly  did 
have  an  overwhelming  influence,  musically,  on  all  who  came 
into  contact  with  him.  Nevertheless,  he  was  not  a  real 
"teacher"  at  all,  in  the  strict  sense  in  which  the  term  is 
here  used  —  although  he  was  truly  a  great  seer.  Indeed, 
I  doubt  very  much  whether  Liszt  himself  ever  gave  a  single, 
real  "lesson"  in  his  life.  What  he  did  often  do,  with  his 
overwhelming  enthusiasm  and  wonderful  personality,  was 
to  stimulate  an  incipient,  latent,  and  perhaps  lukewarm 
enthusiasm  into  a  blazing  flame. 

Nevertheless,  while  the  artist  is  thus,  as  a  rule,  the  most 
feeble  of  teachers,  no  teacher  on  the  other  hand  is  worthy 
the  name  unless  he,  himself,  is  also  more  or  less  an  artist  — 
and  a  finely  perceptive  one,  too!  To  be  a  really  good 
teacher,  you  must  therefore  possess,  or  at  least  you  must 
have  possessed  a  technique  sufficiently  ample  to  enable  you 
to  give  due  expression  to  the  artistic  feeling  which  you  must 
have  succeeded  in  cultivating  in  yourself.  So  that, 

besides  really  teaching  (i.e.,  explaining  and  showing),  you 
may  also  be  able  to  stir  artistic  fire  and  enthusiasm  in 
others  by  actual  example,  when  necessary.  Only  then 

can  you  help  your  pupils  in  every  way. 

As  to  the  appeal  solely  to  the  imitative  faculty,  it  is  clear 
pie,  unaided,  enough  why  this  so  often  leads  the  pupil  astray  —  often 
into  sheer  musical  perversion;  for  indeed,  a  high  degree  of 
nice  judgement  is  needed  to  perceive  what  it  is  that  renders 
a  musical  performance  good,  or  the  reverse  —  to  perceive 
what  is  essential  and  what  is  unessential.  How  can  such 
nicety   of  judgement   be  expected    from  a    mere    School- 


Why  exam- 


fice. 


INTRODUCTORY 


15 


student,  seeing  that  it  is  this  very  thing  you  have  to  teach 
him?  Indeed,  he  would  require  no  teacher,  did  he  already 
possess  such  power  of  judgement  and  of  analysis. 

Not  possessing  such  highly  cultivated  power  of  observa- 
tion or  judgement,  the  student  is  almost  bound  to  be  capti- 
vated by  some  of  the  more  prominent  means  of  expression 
which  you  happen  to  employ  in  exemplifying  to  him,  or 
possibly  by  some  details  of  expression  merely  differing  from 
those  he  has  used.  It  is  these  which  he  will  try  to  reproduce 
—  with  the  best  of  intentions  no  doubt  —  but  with  the  con- 
sequence that  the  picture  will  be  quite  out  of  focus,  out  of 
drawing,  a  picture  probably  much  worse  than  it  was  before 
he  tried  to  imitate  that  example  which  you  gave  him  — 
remember,  an  example  given  without  explanation,  without 
the  purpose  and  reason  explained  to  him  in  so  many  words.1 

Let  us  now  consider  what  happens  if  we  merely  play  Example  ▼. 
through  a  passage  to  a  pupil  without  explanation.     I  will  explanation, 
play  the  opening  bars  of  Schumann's  "Warum",  with  the 
inflections  of  time  and  tone  more  or  less  correctly  given, 
thus: 
Example  1.' 


1  We  must  never  forget  the  fact  that  the  most  difficult  problem 
for  the  pupil  is  to  keep  the  picture  in  mind  as  a  whole  —  as  a  continuous 
progression  —  and  not  to  allow  the  necessary  attention  to  each  detail,  as 
it  comes  along,  to  distract  him  from  a  persistent  purpose  to  keep  Shape 
and  Outline  perfectly  clear. 

*  These  time-inflections  must  be  applied  very  subtly  —  not  in  a  way 
so  coarse  as  to  call  attention  to  themselves. 


16 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Without  explanation  given  to  him,  the  pupil  will  try  to 
imitate  the  "means"  —  the  expression-effects  —  he  thinks 
he  has  heard  me  employ,  and  the  result  will  probably  be  a 
frightful  parody  with  blind  and  futile  changes  of  time  and 
tone,  such  as  the  amateur  who  wishes  to  appear  "musical " 
loves  to  make,  something  like  this: 

Example  2. 


But  I  shall  obtain  quite  another  result  from  the  pupil, 
if  I  take  the  precaution  thoroughly  to  explain  the  passage 
to  him,  either  before  playing  it,  or  afterwards.  For  in- 
stance, I  must  first  make  the  pupil  scan  the  phrase  cor- 
rectly, so  that  he  may  understand  its  rhythmical  structure 
—  where  its  culminating  point  is,  rhythmically,  where  "it 
goes  to."  Again,  I  must  show  him,  that  in  music  such 
as  this,  unless  I  bend  or  inflect  the  time  as  well  as  the 
tone  (unless  I  give  proper  rubato  to  it)  only  squareness 
will  result;  and  I  must  even  point  out  exactly  how  the 
time  is  to  be  curved  —  where  I  must  waste  time  to  give 
emphasis,  and  where  I  must  hasten  the  time  so  as  to 
swing  the  rhythm  back  to  the  point  where  the  phrase 
reaches  its  little  climax,  and  in  the  meantime,  and  beyond 
all  this,  I  must  endeavor  to  convey  to  him  its  emo- 
tional import,  either  by  gesture  or  word.  In  this  way,  and 
in  this  way  only,  the  pupil  will  be  made  to  understand 
why  he  must  use  the  particular  expression-means  I  used 


INTRODUCTORY  17 

in  exemplifying,  and  he  will  then  also  be  able  to  use  such 
musical  sense  as  he  has  to  guide  him  to  the  required  proper 
proportions. 

The  result  will  now  be  a  real  performance,  one  prompted 
by  his  own  mind  in  the  right  way.  Moreover,  it  will  dis- 
play his  own  individuality,  and  it  will  be  satisfactory,  just 
because  one  can  perceive  in  hearing  it,  that  it  is  guided  by 
the  performer's  own  intelligence. 

Furthermore,  the  pupil  will  also  have  made  a  step  forward 
in  his  general  knowledge  of  playing  —  a  permanent  step  for- 
ward. Or,  at  all  events,  he  will  have  had  the  opportunity 
of  making  it,  provided  his  memory  is  good  enough  —  for  he 
will  have  had  a  lesson  in  learning  to  analyse  and  to  apply 
means  to  an  end. 

There  remains  to  be  referred  to,  one  more  general  charac-  Necessity  of 
teristic  which  we,  teachers,  must  cultivate  in  ourselves,  and  enthusi*8m' 
it  is  an  important  one.  I  have  insisted  that  we  should  do 
our  best  to  educate  ourselves  into  being  deft  players  as 
well  as  analytical  teachers,  but  our  efforts  will  after  all  be 
foredoomed  to  failure,  if  we  expect  our  pupils  in  cold  blood 
to  give  such  truly  exhausting  attention  as  I  have  proved 
to  be  imperatively  necessary.  Such  attention  cannot  be 
given  in  response  to  mere  cold  reasoning  by  itself,  however 
logical;  there  must  be  a  stronger  motive  force  than  this; 
there  must  be  an  emotional  driving  force  to  enable  us  to  give 
this  required  attention  —  we  must  act  under  the  stress  of 
Feeling  or  Emotion;  in  short  we  must  be  prompted  by 
Enthusiasm. 

Plainly,  the  teacher  cannot  hope  in  the  least  to  stimulate 
his  pupils  to  do  real,  honest  work,  unless  he,  the  teacher 
himself,  shows  that  the  work  matters  to  him,  in  fact,  that 
it  is  a  matter  of  life-and-death  to  him,  whether  his  pupil 


18  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

does  succeed  or  not,  and  whether  the  piece  discussed  is 
rendered  adequately  or  not. 

Imagination,  hard  work,  yes,  they  are  the  fuel,  but 
Enthusiasm  is  the  spark  which  makes  the  whole  leap  into 
flame. 

But  some  will  object  that  this  is  useless  talk,  that  en- 
thusiasm is  purely  a  personal  characteristic,  and  that  we 
are  either  made  that  way,  or  are  not.  .  .  .  Well,  one  must 
concede  that  there  is  some  truth  in  this.  But,  on  the 

other  hand,  if  we  try  to  recognize  the  fact  that  we  shall  be 
but  miserably  ineffective  teachers  unless  we  do  summon  up 
some  real  interest  in  our  work,  it  will  at  least  make  us  try 
better  than  before. 

Again,  the  very  fact  of  our  thus  trying  to  attend  better 
and  more  minutely  will,  in  its  turn,  inevitably  lead  to  our 
finding  it  more  and  more  easy  to  do  so,  since  the  exercise 
of  a  faculty  always  increases  its  efficacy;  and  in  the  end 
we  may  realise  that  it  really  is  worth  while  trying  to  help 
and  improve  others.  .  .  .  And  our  enthusiasm  in  our  work 
will  assuredly  grow,  when  we  see  better  and  better  fruits 
accrue  from  our  better  efforts. 

The  attempt  to  do  work  without  giving  one's  whole  mind 
to  it,  is  indeed  a  very  Hell  upon  earth,  and  vice  versa,  there 
is  no  finer  Heaven,  there  is  nothing  more  stimulating,  than 
just  this  feeling,  that  our  whole  fife  is  in  our  work,  and 
that  evidently  we  are  of  use  to  our  fellows. 

Bad  and  good      I  have  dwelt  upon  the  urgent  necessity  of  the  teacher 
te*chin8'       using  his  brains  all  the  time;  let  us  next  consider  how  he 
must  use  them.  Just  as  important  as  actually  giving 

our  mind  to  our  work,  is  it,  that  we  apply  ourselves  in  the 
right  way.  It  is  not  enough  to  be  thoroughly  anxious  to 
help  our  pupil ;  our  hard  trying  will  after  all  end  but  in  sore 


INTRODUCTORY  19 

disappointment  unless  we  know  what  help  to  give  and  how 
to  give  it. 

Here  we  are  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  most  subtle  and 
yet  most  radical  of  the  distinctions  between  good  teaching 
and  bad  —  one  of  the  most  radical  distinctions  between 
the  work  of  the  inexperienced  or  foolish  teacher,  young  or 
old,  and  that  of  a  real  teacher,  rich  in  correctly  assimilated 
experience.  As  I  have  said  before :  the  bad  teacher  simply 
tries  to  make  the  pupil  do  things  —  "things,"  points,  effects 
which  the  teacher  feels  are  necessary;  whereas  the  good 
teacher  tries  to  make  the  pupil  see  and  think  things,  so 
that,  seeing  their  purpose,  he  can  apply  them  by  his  own 
choice.  To  be  more  explicit,  simply  to  make  the  pupil  Cramming  v. 

carry  out  the  details  of  expression  and  interpretation  which  realteaching. 
seem  desirable  to  you  at  the  moment,  only  serves  to  con- 
vert your  pupil  into  an  automaton,  an  automaton  responsive 
to  your  thoughts  instead  of  his  own — a  Trilby  to  your 
Svengalism.  This  is  in  fact  sheer,  miserable  " cramming." 
Such  cramming  can  have  no  abiding  influence  whatever 
on  the  pupil,  for  you  are  not  in  the  least  educating  him 
—  not  in  the  least  training  his  mind.  It  is  doubtful, 
indeed,  whether  you  will  obtain  from  him,  in  that  way, 
even  one  satisfactory  performance.  No,  the  only  way 

to  establish  any  abiding  improvement  in  your  pupil,  and 
also  the  only  way  to  obtain,  immediately,  a  vivid  perform- 
ance, is  patiently  and  ceaselessly  to  insist  on  the  pupil 
himself  always  using  his  own  ears  (upon  the  actual  sounds, 
and  upon  the  sounds  that  should  be),  his  own  judge- 
ment, his  own  reason  and  his  own  feeling;  and  this,  not 
merely  "in  a  general  sort  of  way,"  but  for  every  note, 
intimately,  so  that  the  musical  picture,  as  a  whole,  may 
be  successful. 

This  does  not  imply  less  attention  on  your  part  as  teacher ; 


20  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

on  the  contrary,  it  implies  far  greater  attention;  for  you 
have  to  be  as  it  were  a  vigilant  policeman,  constantly  on 
the  alert,  seeing  to  it  that  your  pupil  keeps  his  mind  on  his 
work  all  the  time,  and  does  play  every  note  as  it  should  be 
played.  Instead  of  acting  as  a  bad  orchestral  con- 

ductor, you  must  act  like  a  good  conductor  at  rehearsal, 
you  must  explain  to  your  pupil  the  most  intimate  details 
of  structure  and  of  feeling,  so  that  he  may  musically  be 
able  to  see  and  feel  rightly,  and  may  therefore  play  rightly 
because  of  thus  seeing  and  feeling.1 

In  short,  instead  of  the  pupil  being  made  merely  to  carry 
into  effect  the  means  of  expression  dictated  by  you,  he  must 
be  made  to  use  his  own  musical  imagination  and  judgement 
all  the  time,  and  also,  what  is  equally  important,  his  physical 
judgement  in  connection  with  the  instrument  he  is  using  — 
as  Pianist  he  must  be  using  his  sense  of  key-resistance,  etc., 
all  the  time. 

You  must  insist  on  his  doing  this  all  the  time  he  is  in  your 
presence,  and  you  must  try  to  induce  him  to  do  so  all  the 
time  you  are  absent. 
To  render  a  A  pupil  generally  plays  badly,  just  because  neither  of 
pupil  "musi-  these  things  are  done  —  unless,  of  course,  he  has  not  mastered 
the  right  ways  of  Technique  itself,  in  which  case  he  will 
play  badly  for  the  simple  reason  that  he  is  unable  to  express 
what  he  does  feel  and  think.  But  indeed  you  will  often 

find,  that  the  moment  you  really  succeed  in  making  a  pupil 

Bad  and  good  *  The  difference  between  a  good  and  bad  orchestral  conductor  depends 
conducting,  on  the  same  laws:  the  bad  conductor  treats  his  men  like  machines  — 
tries  to  play  on  them,  whereas  the  really  great  conductor  tries  to  make 
his  men  into  intelligent  artists,  each  one  of  them,  tries  to  make  them  see 
the  music,  and  insists  on  their  using  their  own  musical  feeling  —  in  re- 
sponse to  his,  it  is  true,  but  not  in  mechanical  obedience  to  his  orders,  or 
bandmasterly  directions. 


INTRODUCTORY  21 

attend  musically  and  physically,  that  moment  all  his  playing 
becomes  infinitely  more  musical.1  Much  that  seemed  hope- 
lessly wrong  from  the  very  foundation  upwards,  at  once 
becomes  better,  and  often  to  a  quite  surprising  extent; 
and  a  pupil  who  perhaps  seemed  "hopelessly  unmusical" 
gradually  seems  to  become  endowed  with  quite  musical 
instincts! 

Before  going  any  further,  I  must  try  to  make  this  differ-  Teaching 
ence  still  clearer  —  the  difference  between  Teaching  and  cramming 
Cramming.     I  recur  again  and  again  to  this  point,  and  urge  *g<un* 
upon  my  Teacher-students  that  we  must  do  real  teaching 
and  not  mere  illusive  "cramming,"  and  yet  I  find  that  the 
temptation  to  act  merely  the  Svengali  tends  to  master  us, 
unless  we  constantly  resist  it.     Indeed  even  the  best  of  us 
are  often  enough  on  the  verge  of  falling  into  this  trap,  ever 
ready  for  us.     But  remember,  the  moment  we  give  way,  that 
moment  we  cease  to  be  real  teachers  or  educationists. 

It  is  difficult  to  resist  this  temptation,  and  always  carefully 
to  draw  the  line  between  merely  conducting  a  performance  of 
our  own  through  our  pupil's  fingers,  and  correctly  teaching 
him  by  prompting  him  to  play  by  his  own  initiative,  helped 
by  our  constant,  careful  analysis  of  Shape  and  Feeling,  and 
by  example  when  desirable. 

The  temptation  is  of  course  all  the  greater,  when  dealing 
with  exceedingly  un-alert  pupils,  so-called  "un-musical" 
ones.  This  teaching-principle,  however,  applies  every- 

where.   Always   try   to   avoid   making   the  pupils   "do," 
always  try  to  make  them  think.    Again,  in  thus  honestly  Make  sure 
trying  to  help  your  pupils  in  better  fashion,  and  really  try-  of  your 
ing  to  make  them  use  their  own  brains,  you  are  after  all  dl*8no8lg* 
only  scolding  and  finding  fault,  and  are  not  really  teaching, 

1  By  "physically"  is  here  meant  the  use  of  one's  outer  ear,  and  one's 
muscular  sense  —  with  regard  to  key-resistance,  etc. 


22 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Concrete 
cases. 


unless  —  and  that  is  the  crux  of  the  thing  —  unless  you 
properly  diagnose  and  make  clear  the  true  cause  of  each 
fault.1 

And  here  we  dare  not  be  careless.  It  behooves  us  not  to 
accept  too  hurriedly  the  first  explanation  that  offers,  but 
always  to  make  sure  that  we  have  seen  the  true  cause,  the 
ultimate  cause  of  the  pupil's  going  astray,  for  while  there 
may  be  many  things  that  seem  to  be  the  cause,  we  may  yet 
fail  to  correct  the  pupil  owing  to  our  wrong  diagnosis. 

But  all  such  generalities  are  not  really  helpful,  since  the 
unanalytical  person  cannot  apply  them. 

Let  us  therefore  take  a  concrete  example.  Say,  a  pupil 
plays  a  passage  unrhythmically,  such  a  very  ordinary  fault 
as  the  following  one  for  instance,  in  Chopin's  Polonaise  in  A: 


Example  3. 


—  the  left  hand  is  here  often  played  as  a  quintuplet  instead 
of  in  the  proper  Polonaise-rhythm.  It  was  thus  misplayed 
only  the  other  day  by  a  pupil,  and  as  a  number  of  listeners 

1  Let  me  reiterate  it,  the  radical  difference  between  real  teaching  and 
useless  cramming  is  that  in  cramming  you  make  the  pupil  parrot  your 
own  thoughts  more  or  less  unintelligently,  whereas,  in  really  teaching,  you 
not  only  point  out  to  the  pupil  where  he  is  wrong  and  what  the  right 
effects  should  be,  but  always  point  out  also  the  cause,  the  why  and 
wherefore  of  all  faults,  and  hence,  the  means  of  their  immediate  correction; 
and  you  thus  stimulate  the  pupil  to  use  his  own  judgment  and  feeling  all 
the  time  —  musically  and  technically. 


INTRODUCTORY  23 

were  in  the  room  (some  of  them  teachers  of  some  experience) 
I  thought  I  would  ask  these  to  explain  the  fault.  Here 
are  some  of  the  answers: 

"Sounds  sloppy"  —  "must  be  played  with  more  spirit," 
—  which  was  true  enough,  but  was  no  explanation 
of  the  fault,  —  any  more  than  were  the  following 
ones. 

"Not  enough  accent  in  the  right  hand!" 

"Not  enough  accent  in  the  left  hand!" 

"Tone  too  much  the  same  in  both  hands!"  (True 
enough,  subsidiarily.) 

"Tone  too  heavy  in  left  hand!"  (Also  true.) 

"It  is  clumsy  —  holds  herself  too  stiffly." 

"Plays  with  too  much  arm-weight."  (They  thought 
that  would  please  me!)  But  the  pupil  continued  to 
play  her  quintuplet  in  the  left  hand.  Then  they  got 
warmer : 

"Does  not  play  rhythmically." 

"Left  hand  is  not  in  time." 

"  Does  not  hold  the  first  quaver  long  enough"  (perfectly 

true,  of  course). 
"Plays  the  two  semiquavers  too  soon." 

Nevertheless,  none  of  these  answers  (not  even  the  later 
ones)  formed  any  true  correction  or  analysis  of  the  cause 
of  the  fault.  None  went  to  the  root  of  the  matter.  True, 
the  result  of  the  fault  was  plain  enough  all  the  time  —  its 
ill-effect,  and  in  the  end  the  unmusical  result  was  also  cor- 
rectly enough  located.  But  the  pupil  was  not  told  how  the 
fault  had  arisen,  nor  how  to  correct  it.  .  .  .  Hence,  none 
of  these  tentative  "corrections"  formed  any  real  teaching 
of  the  pupil. 


24 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


details. 


How  to  cor-  The  only  possible  direction  to  give  to  her,  the  only  pos- 
rcct  inaccu-  s[\y\e  reai  teaching  of  this  pupil,  here,  was  simply  to  point  out, 
™  tLu  *"  that  sne  had  failed  to  attend  to  time  at  that  particular  spot, 
and  had  therefore  omitted  to  notice  where  (in  Time)  the 
first  of  those  two  semiquavers  should  occur: 
Example  4. 


etc. 


It  sufficed  to  point  out  to  her  this  lapse  of  Time-attention, 
and  of  course  the  correction  was  instantaneously  accom- 
plished. It  was  now  a  true  correction,  it  will  be  noticed, 
because  the  pupil  herself  was  made  to  think  rightly,  was 
made  to  use  her  own  judgement  in  the  matter  —  for  she 
was  shown  where  her  own  Time-attention  had  been  slack 
and  was  shown  the  consequences  of  such  slackness.  There- 
fore, it  was  true  teaching;  for  she  had  been  shown  not  only 
how  to  correct  this  particular  fault,  but,  if  she  tried  to  profit 
by  this  lesson,  she  had  the  opportunity  of  improving  herself 
abidingly,  she  had  learnt  something  that  might  last  her 
lifetime. 

Believe  me,  no  one  ever  plays  "out  of  time"  if  he  really 
attends  to  Time.  The  fault  is  that  pupils  do  not  attend,  nay, 
even  find  it  impossible  to  attend  —  but  only  because  they 
have  not  learnt  to  do  so.  It  is  precisely  such  attention 
which  you  have  to  teach  them,  every  pupil  you  have,  and 
all  the  time.1 

Uselessness  x  You  see,  therefore,  how  useless  it  is  to  hope  to  teach  your  pupils  a 
of  the  metro-  sense  of  Time  and  Rhythm  by  merely  beating  time  to  their  perform- 
nome,  as  a  ances,  or  making  them  listen  to  your  exhibition  of  a  Time-sense.  True, 
time-teacher,  the  force  of  example  may  have  some  little  effect,  and  your  pupils  may 


Playing  out 
of  time 
means  lack 
of  attention. 


INTRODUCTORY  25 

To  take  other  and  opposite  instances,  of  technical  short- 
comings : 

A  comparatively  musical  pupil,  who  is  obviously  trying  Faults  axis- 
hard  to  play  a  cantabile  passage  most  soulfully  and  sym-  ***  from  b*d 
pathetically,  fails  sadly,  however,  owing  to  bad  touch- 
habits.  Here  it  is  of  no  use  telling  her  to  "sing  the  passage 
better,"  or  to  "play  it  more  sympathetically.' '  The  only 
way  to  help  her  is  to  explain  to  her  how  to  produce  the  sing- 
ing effect  easily  and  therefore  successfully,  i.  e.,  by  arm-lapse, 
flat  finger,  and  careful  attention  to  the  necessary  crescendo 
of  speed  during  key-descent,  and  accurate  "aiming"  of 
the  key-motion,  etc. 

Or,  in  a  related  case,  a  pupil  may  play  her  passages 
"stickily"  or  unevenly;  here  again,  it  is  useless  merely  to  call 
attention  to  these  defects  —  probably  she  notices  them  (to 
her  sorrow)  as  much  as  you  do.     The  only  true  correction 

play  tolerably  in  time  while  you  are  "pumping"  away,  or  counting  or 
shouting;  but  the  moment  they  are  left  alone  —  as  they  have  to  be  for 
most  of  their  playing-time  —  they  play  just  as  badly  as  before,  since  you 
have  not  told  them  how  to  help  themselves.  The  only  way  to  teach 

them,  is  unremittingly  to  insist  on  their  attending  to  their  own  sense  of 
Time-throb  or  sense  of  Rhythm  while  you  have  the  chance.  Do 

not  allow  their  rhythmical  attention  to  flag  for  a  moment  while  they  are 
with  you.  Moreover,  you,  yourself,  will  have  to  be  alert  all  the 

time,  else  your  own  Imitative-sense  will  cause  you  unconsciously  to  follow 
their  lax  pulse-feeling,  and  you,  yourself,  being  misled,  will  fail  to  notice 
their  aberrations  from  Time-continuity.  You  must  be  alert  all  the  while  so 
that  your  own  Time-sense  may  remain  unshaken,  and  so  that  you  may  com- 
pare your  pupils'  doings  (in  this  respect)  with  what  you  feel  is  imperative. 
Hence,  also,  you  realize  the  folly  of  imagining  that  a  Metronome  can 
serve  as  a  Time-teacher.  You  see,  the  pupil  has  to  learn  to  play  to  a 
pulse-throb  of  his  own  making  all  the  while;  it  is  therefore  of  very  little 
use  indeed  learning  to  pay  obedience  to  an  outside,  machine-made  Pulse- 
throb.  And  in  any  case,  a  Metronome  is  apt  to  kill  the  finer  Time-sense 
implied  by  Rubato.    But  more  about  this  anon. 


26  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

is  to  show  her  the  cause  of  her  defects  —  probably  a  forearm 
held  stiffly,  rotarily,  and  the  rotary  exertions  not  adjusted 
accurately  to  each  finger,  or  maybe,  complete  ignorance  as 
to  the  evil  effects  of  "key-bedding."  Or,  it  may  even  be 
a  case  of  one  actually  mistaught  technically,  a  victim  for 
instance  of  the  doctrine  of  "holding  the  knuckles  in"  — 
the  doctrine  which  has  done  such  an  inconceivable  amount 
of  mischief  at  so  many  of  our  schools  for  girls,  and  music 
schools  here  and  elsewhere.  In  such  case,  it  is  of  no  use 
saying  "you  must  hold  the  knuckles  up"  —  that  would  only 
do  harm.  You  must  show  and  make  clear,  that  if  the 
finger  is  properly  exerted  and  the  arm  is  not  forced  down, 
the  knuckles  will  then  automatically  assume  their  natural 
level  position;  and  you  must  demonstrate  that  it  is  just 
as  impossible  to  use  one's  fingers  freely  and  easily  at 
the  Piano  under  such  absurdly  unnatural  and  helpless 
conditions,  as  it  would  be  to  take  a  walk  with  one's  legs 
doubled  up  at  the  knee  —  in  the  crouching  position  assumed 
for  a  certain  kind  of  comic  race. 
Correction  of  As  two  final  instances :  when  a  slow  movement  is  played 
incorrect  too  slowly,  do  not  say  "play  quicker";  instead,  try  to  make 
tempi.  ^e  pUpjj  think  the  music  in  longer  phrases.  Again,  if  a 

quick  movement  is  played  too  fast,  you  will  only  hamper 
yourself,  or  your  pupil,  by  telling  him  to  "try  to  make  the 
piece  go  slower";  instead,  here  draw  attention  to  the  in- 
between  beats,  or  sub-divisions  of  these  beats,  and  the  result 
is  immediately  attained  and  with  certainty. 
The  causes  No,  teaching  does  not  consist  in  merely  pointing  out  the 
of  faults  must  existence  of  faults  —  not  now-a-days  —  but  in  our  always 
m™l\i*ar  making  clear  the  cause  of  each  fault,  and  the  direct  means 
of  its  correction.1 

1  In  other  words:  it  is  not  enough  to  notice  the  nature  of  each  fault 
and  to  point  this  out  to  the  pupil,  you  must  correctly  diagnose  the  cause 
of  each  fault  and  explain  that  to  the  pupil. 


made  clear. 


INTRODUCTORY  27 

You  have  to  teach  people  to  attend,  to  analyse,  to  notice 
on  their  own  account  —  to  notice  and  observe  Time,  and 
also  everything  else,  Tone  and  Duration,  how  they  should 
be,  and  also,  how  they  really  appear;  and  you  also  have  to 
teach  people  how  to  obtain  the  required  tonal  effects  from 
their  instrument. 

To  teach  people  how  to  attend  and  how  to  do,  —  how  to  True  educa- 
feel  and  perceive,  that  alone  is  real  teaching,  and  it  is  a  tion- 
proud  thing  to  be  engaged  upon.  It  is  never  "hack-work" 
—  if  you  insist  thus  on  really  teaching  people  how  to  think, 
and  do  not  try  to  make  them  use  their  fingers  in  response 
merely  to  your  musical  wishes.  Only  by  bearing  these 
things  in  mind  can  you  avoid  being  a  "crammer,"  and  can 
you  attain  to  being  a  true  educationist. 


SECTION  II 

THE  NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION   AND   OF 
MUSICAL  SHAPE 

We  have  now  realised  how  keenly  close  attention  must 
be  striven  for  by  the  pupil;  this  brings  us  to  a  consideration 
of  the  next  practical  question,  how  such  attention  is  to  be 
brought  about  immediately  and  inevitably. 
Attention  The  answer  is  the  one  I  have  already  so  often  insisted 

^^  key"  uPon  — tne  oruy  Possible  way  of  attending  to  Music  during 
and  time.       Performance  is  through  that  duplex  form  of  attention,  atten- 
tion through  key-resistance,  and  attenti'  a  through  time. 

Whatever  the  passage,  whether  of  the  slowest  cantabile, 
or  the  lightest  and  swiftest  agility,  we  can  only  attend  to  it 
by  unremittingly  giving  our  minds,  in  the  first  place,  to  the 
requirements  of  the  instrument  itself,  that  is,  to  the  constantly 
varying  resistance  of  the  key  itself  during  its  descent,  corre- 
sponding to  the  various  tones  required. 

And  again,  in  the  second  place,  it  is  only  possible  definitely 
to  guide  the  forces  we  are  thus  prompted  to  expend,  by 
definitely  intending  and  accurately  fulfilling  a  "Time-spot" 
for  each  note.  In  short,  to  enable  us  to  attend  to  musical 
feeling  we  must  (at  the  Piano)  attend  to  the  Key,  through 
its  every  motion  being  exactly  chosen  and  timed.1 

1  Is  not  this  a  strange  paradox,  that  to  enable  us  to  play  musically  we 
must  give  close  attention  mechanically  —  through  the  key-lever;  and  in 
the  same  way,  the  fiddler  must  attend  through  his  bow-pressure.  Or, 
to  be  more  accurate,  in  playing  the  Piano  or  Violin  we  must  attend  to 
our  tones  through  the  controlled  (accurately  adjusted)  relaxation  of  our 

28 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      29 

Here  then,  we  have  two  most  definite  and  tangible  facts 
upon  which  to  keep  the  student's  and  artist's  mind;  and 
the  inevitable  corrollary  of  his  thus  attending  to  key-motion 
through  time,  is  that  he  will  also  be  compelled  to  give  the 
closest  and  most  intimate  attention  to  Music  itself  —  to 
musical  Feeling  and  Shape.  Concerning  this  question  of 
Time-spot,  I  have  very  much  more  to  say  today,  but  con- 
cerning that  of  Key-resistance,  I  have  so  fully  shown  the 
way  in  my  "Relaxation  Studies"  and  elsewhere,  that  I  need 
not  enter  further  into  this  matter  now,  except  perhaps  to 
point  out,  that  these  same  "Relaxation  Studies"  are  in- 
deed, many  of  them,  merely  teaching-devices  for  this  very 
purpose  —  to  teach  the  student  how  to  attend  to  the  key.1 

Now  as  to  the  question  of  "Time-spot":  if  a  violinist  or  Meaning  of 
singer  does  not  give  his  mind  to  his  work,  his  instrument  "Time- 
warns  him  instantly  and  unmistakably,  for  his  intonation  sp0 
becomes  faulty,  and  that  is  a  result  which,  usually,  annoys 
him  too  much  to  be  ignored. 

Now  at  the  Piano,  inattention,  it  is  true,  may  cause  us 
to  play  actual  wrong  notes;  but  besides  such  mere  "wrong 
notes,"  a  far  worse  thing  happens,  for  the  very  moment  we 
allow  ourselves  to  become  inattentive  as  to  the  precise 
Time-spot  of  every  note,  that  moment  we  do  indeed  play 

arm- weight,  and  in  singing  through  the  controlled  relaxation  of  our  ribs. 
(See  the  late  John  H.  Kennedy's  "Common  Sense  and  Singing"  —  real 
common  sense  on  the  subject.) 

1  The  most  important  of  these  Studies  (bearing  on  this  particular  mat- 
ter) are  the  "  Resting"  and  "Aiming"  exercises,  "Throw-off,"  and  "Agil- 
ity" tests;  and,  most  important  of  all  perhaps,  the  "Rotation"  exercises. 
In  fact,  it  is  impossible  to  play  at  all,  unless  the  technical  ground  covered 
by  such  "tests"  has  been  mastered  to  some  extent.  The  extent  of  such 
mastery  may  indeed  be  said  to  form  the  limit  of  our  technical  attainments; 
which  signifies,  the  elimination  of  all  unnecessary  exertions,  and  the  accu- 
rate timing  and  choice  of  the  required  ones. 


30  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

"out  of  tune"  in  a  sense  —  that  is,  out  of  tune  as  regards 
time.  And  this  is  far  less  a  mere  figure  of  speech  than  it 
would  appear  to  be  at  first  sight,  since  both  are  vibrational 
experiences.1 

As  I  have  before  insisted  upon,  during  performance  it  is 
really  impossible  definitely  to  guide  any  note,  unless  we  do 
thus  think  of  its  Time-spot :  the  precise  place  in  Time  where 
the  sound  is  musically  due  to  begin,  and  where  the  key's 
motion  is  therefore  due  to  finish  its  act  of  tone-production. 
The  most  striking  and  most  definite  thing  about  a  note  is 
the  fact  of  its  transition  from  non-existence  to  existence  — 
the  moment  of  transition  from  Silence  to  Sound;  for  this 
is  an  absolutely  definite  point  of  demarcation  at  the  Piano, 
as  definite  as  the  surface  (or  beginning)  of  a  piece  of  wood 
or  stone.2 
The  act  of  We  cannot,  therefore,  definitely  think  a  note  in  playing 

thought  or      unless  we  thus  think  the  time-place  of  its  beginning  —  the 
e°  .°   Ueg  beginning  of  the  sound.  Moreover,  we  must  try  to 

a  rhythmical  realise,  that  this  law  has  a  far  deeper  significance  even  than 
act.  this.     The  fact  is,  we  cannot  experience  any  act  of  con- 

sciousness, we   cannot  direct  our  minds  and  think  about 

Similarity  *  We  all  know  that  a  musical  sound  is  the  effect  produced  upon  our 

between  mind  by  the  regular  recurrence  of  impulses  on  our  ear.     What  we  call 

playing  out  "Time"  in  Music  is,  however,  quite  a  similar  experience;  the  recurrence 
of  time  and  0f  pulse-throbs  are  similar  to  vibration-throbs,  but  in  the  first  case  the 
playing  out  recurrences  are  enormously  slower.  Hence,  it  is  useful  and  suggestive  to 
remember,  that  "playing  out  of  time"  is  an  evil  effect  belonging  to  the 
same  genus  as  flaying  out  of  tune;  it  is  just  as  unclean,  sordid  and  dis- 
heartening, just  as  unnatural,  unbeautiful,  and  un-godly! 

2  In  other  words,  the  only  way  definitely  to  guide  into  existence  any 
note  at  the  Piano  is  clearly  to  determine  the  moment  when  this  transition 
from  Silence  to  Sound  is  musically  due,  and  to  see  to  it  that  we  so  carefully 
guide  the  Piano  key-lever  that  it  will  finish  its  work  of  tone-production 
at  that  precise  moment  —  the  moment  which  we  have  in  our  mind  musi- 
cally. 


of  tune. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      31 

or  realise  anything  definitely,  without  just  such  an  act  of 
timing  —  a  timing  of  our  consciousness.  The  act  of  bring- 
ing or  directing  our  thought  or  attention  upon  anything  is 
therefore  a  rhythmical  process;  Thought  and  Rhythm  are 
inseparable.  Again,  we  see  the  reason  why  in  the  absence 
of  Rhythm  there  can  only  be  Nothingness  —  emptiness, 
non-being!1 

We  must  insist,  therefore,  on  the  pupil  clearly  realising  "  Grip "  in 
that  he  can  only  obtain  "grip"  of  what  he  is  doing  by  perfonnance- 
means  of  close  attention  to  this  fact,  that  he  must  finish  each 
act  of  tone-production  at  the  very  moment  his  Time-sense 
impels  him  to  wish  each  note  to  begin.  Having  thus  some- 
thing definite  to  take  hold  of  mentally,  this  will  enable  him 
to  think  also  of  the  colour  he  wishes  to  give  each  note,  its 
place  in  the  phrase,  its  place  as  part  of  a  whole. 

Now  here  arises  the  question,  how  shall  we  make  a  pupil  As  to  time- 
understand  Time  and  Rhythm,  and  why  do  so  few  seem  to  fr*"1111^ 
feel  it  at  all?    The  fault  usually  arises  either  from  the  entire 
want  of,  or  fault  in,  early  training  in  this  respect. 

The  fact  is,  no  child  should  ever  be  allowed  to  sound  a 
note  at  the  Piano  until  his  Time-sense  has  been  thoroughly 
aroused.  It  is  the  very  first  thing,  and  the  most  supremely 
important  thing  to  teach. 

Before  teaching  the  note-signs,  or  even  the  note-sounds, 
we  must  teach  attention  to  Pulse.    We  must  make  the 

1  The  term  "Rhythm"  is  of  course  in  this  work  used  in  its  proper  and  As  to  the 
all-embracing  sense,  its  narrowest  and  its  widest  application,  and  including  interpreta- 
bar-rhythm,  figure-rhythm,  phrase-rhythm  —  the  minute  rhythm  implied  tion  of  the 
in  the  ever-changing  sub-divisions  of  the  bar  pulses,  as  well  as  the  huge  term 
rhythmical  swing  of  a  whole  phrase  played  as  one  single  pulse  in  Rubato,  '  rhythm, 
and  the  still  greater  Pulse  of  a  real  master-piece  when  this  swings  on  to 
its  climax  with  unbroken  continuity  of  purpose  —  a  Whole,  which,  built 
up  of  multifarious  ideas  and  logical  successions,  is  yet  welded  together  as 
we  find  it  only  in  the  works  of  the  really  great  composers. 


32  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

beginner  realise  that  Pulse  (the  recurrence  of  time-distances) 
is  a  material  fact,  quite  easy  to  realise  if  only  we  attend  to 
it;  and  he  should  have  considerable  facility  in  the  appre- 
ciation of  Pulse  and  its  subdivision  before  he  is  allowed  to 
touch  the  keyboard  at  all.  And  when  he  does  so,  we  must 
from  the  first  insist  on  his  realising  that  every  note  he  plays 
must  be  accurately  fitted  into  the  particular  Pulse-scheme 
chosen  by  him  as  the  canvas  upon  which  to  paint  his  musical 
picture  —  and  this,  however  simple  the  picture  may  be.1 
Correct  idea  This  brings  us  to  a  very  important  matter:  the  correct 
of  time  and  outlook  as  to  what  is  meant  by  Time  in  Music  —  important 
indeed,  for  if  this  outlook  is  incorrect,  our  whole  outlook  on 

music.  f  '  m 

Music  will  necessarily  be  based  on  a  foundation  of  sand. 

Now  we  shall  find  that  although  the  arts  of  Music  and 
Painting  seem  so  very  different,  yet  we  have  here  a  strong 
parallelism  in  the  basis  of  both,  inasmuch  as  both  depend 
upon  Progression  or  Movement. 
Progression        In  painting  or  drawing  the  movement  is  upon  the  canvas, 
and  move-     an(j  ^his  m  a  d0UDle  sense;  for  there  is,  first,  an  actual  move- 
gous  in         ment  of  the  painter's  brush  or  pencil  in  the  act  of  making  the 
music  and     picture;  and  secondly,  an  actual  movement  again,  in  viewing 
parting.        the  picture  —  an  actual  movement  of  our  eyeballs  in  follow- 
ing its  lines,  or  at  least  a  suggestion  of  such  movement. 

The  origin  of  1  That  is,  the  pupil's  mind  must  be  brought  to  notice  the  phenomenon 
our  sense  of  Pulse  or  Beat.  This  is  best  done  by  calling  attention  to  the  swing  of 
of  pulse.  his  stride  in  walking  or  running;  and  remember,  he  had  to  learn  to  feel 
pulse  in  a  measure  before  he  could  encompass  either  of  those  accomplish- 
ments! Indeed,  I  opine,  that  in  our  gait,  we  have  the  origin  of  our  feeling 
of  pulse  in  music.  We  imagine  the  swing  of  a  walking  or  running  stride; 
we  set  one  going  for  every  piece  we  play,  and  imagining  its  continuance 
it  thus  guides  us.  How  vivid  do  the  Beethoven  themes  become  if  we 
hum  them  in  our  rambles  through  the  woods  —  conceived  as  so  many  of 
these  themes  doubtless  were  under  a  similar  impression  of  fresh  air  and 
the  accompaniment  of  a  healthy  walking  stride. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      33 

In  Music  the  distinction  is,  that  the  movement  is  upon 
a  time-surface,  as  it  were  —  instead  of  upon  a  canvas. 

Here  then,  we  have  two  very  close  analogies  in  Music  and 
Painting,  unexpected  though  they  may  be:  (I)  This  sense 
of  Progression,  or  Movement,  and  (II)  this  necessity  of  some 
medium  upon  which  to  fix  our  progressions. 

In  Music  we  choose  some  particular  sequence  of  beats  or 
pulses,  and  upon  this  particular  form  of  extension  in  space, 
or  Time-spacings,  upon  this  thoroughly  tangible  time-canvas 
of  Pulse  we  lay  out  the  progression  of  our  musical  picture, 
whether  as  composers  or  players  —  just  as  the  painter  must 
lay  out  his  work  on  his  canvas. 

It  may  strike  you  at  first  that  all  this  is  "a  very  waste  of 
words"  but  I  assure  you  we  are  here  face  to  face  with  one 
of  the  fundamental  laws  of  our  art,  and  the  teaching  of  it. 
Yes,  even  the  uncultured  members  of  an  audience  can  quite 
well  feel  the  effect  of  rhythm,  or  its  absence.  When  the 
Rhythm  is  strong,  they  are  impressed  by  the  fact  that  the 
piece  is  alive,  but  when  the  Rhythm  is  lax,  or  Time-con- 
tinuity is  broken  up,  they  feel  that  it  is  "  as  dead  as  a  door 
nail";  and  this,  although  quite  unaware  of  the  cause  of 
their  comfort  or  discomfort.  Indeed,  so  strong  is  this 
rhythmical  need  of  the  public,  that  when  rhythmical  grip 
is  lacking  in  a  performer  no  other  attractions  offered  by 
him  can  save  the  piece.1 

Here  we  have  indeed  one  of  those  fundamental  facts  which 
we  must  drive  home  to  every  pupil,  even  beginners.    It  is 

1  We  also  find  that  our  musical  ideas  of  "Time"  and  "Progression" 
are  closely  correlated;  since  to  enable  us  to  determine  the  precise  "time- 
spot"  of  any  note,  we  must  think  of  music  itself  —  in  its  aspect  of  pro- 
gression or  movement.  And,  vice  versa,  attention  to  musical  Progression 
will  also,  in  its  turn,  compel  our  attention  to  the  details  of  Time  and 
Pulse. 


34 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


The  pro- 

gressional 
view  of 
music  v.  the 
old  segmen- 
tal view. 


of  no  use  trying  to  think  Music  unless  you  think  of  pro- 
gression, that  is,  Movement  towards  something  or  other. 

In  fact,  this  forms  the  best  definition  of  all  Form  or  Shape 
or  Structure  in  Music,  be  it  phrase,  section,  sentence  or  a 
complete  piece.  This  idea  of  Movement  is  the  vitalizing 
spark  which  turns  mere  notes  into  living  music,  this  sense 
of  Purpose  —  this  sense  of  progressing  somewhere.1 

It  is  astounding  that  until  lately  none  of  the  Theory- 
teachers  seem  to  have  put  this  fact  into  words;  although,  of 
course,  no  real  musician  has  ever  felt  music  apart  from  an 
unconscious  appreciation  of  this  fact.2 

Instead  of  Progression  —  continuous,  purposeful  Move- 
ment —  they  have  tried  to  explain  Music  as  consisting  of 
chunks  or  solid  segments  of  accented  bars  and  of  unaccented 
bars,  thus  giving  the  mis-impression  to  the  learner,  that 
Music  consists  of  dead,  disconnected  bits  of  sound-stone  or 
brick,  instead  of  a  living  mass,  a  continuous  swing  and  swirl 
of  Growth.3 

This  idea  of  motion  in  Music,  continuous  Movement,  we 
must  make  clear  to  anyone  and  everyone,  even  to  a  child 
at  his  very  first  lesson  in  Music. 

Having  applied  this  teaching  principle  for  the  last  twenty 
years  or  so,  and  knowing  its  electrifying  effect  on  the  student, 

1  A  phrase,  for  instance,  may  therefore  in  performance  be  denned  as: 
a  growth,  or  progression  of  notes  towards  a  cadence,  shown  by  means  of 
Tone  and  Rubato  inflections. 

1  My  old  pupil,  John  B.  McEwen,  has  of  course  adopted  this  teaching 
of  mine  in  his  admirable  "Phrasing";  and  now,  on  going  to  press  with 
this  MS.  (October,  1912)  I  receive  a  copy  of  a  new  work  of  his  just  issued, 
"The  Thought  in  Music,"  a  work  full  of  original  thought  and  research 
wherein  he  develops  this  idea  still  further  and  with  a  masterly  hand. 

1  In  the  "Coda"  of  this  work  (Section  IV)  it  will  be  seen  why  this  pro- 
gressional  view  of  Music-structure  is  so  vitalizing  to  the  student,  artist, 
and  teacher. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      35 

I  tried  to  call  attention  to  this  necessity  in  the  final  chapter 
of  my  "First  Principles,"  page  126;  but  most  people  seem 
to  pass  this  passage  by,  without  noting  that  it  bears  indeed 
on  all  they  do  every  day  as  teachers.  This  is  what  I  mean 
by  " scanning"  the  music  before  trying  to  play  it;  the 
rhythmical  shape  or  progress  of  even  the  simplest  phrase 
must  be  understood,  if  we  are  to  have  any  chance  of  playing 
it  correctly,  and  if  our  performance  is  not  to  drivel  into  mere 
musical  —  or  unmusical  —  babbling.1 

1  This  doctrine  of  Progression  or  Movement,  which  I  insist  upon  as  the  The  differ- 

basis  of  all  Shape  in  performance,  is  indeed  a  most  important  teaching  ence  be- 

principle  —  one  might  say  perhaps  the  most  important  of  all.    The  old  tween  the 

way  of  teaching  Form,  Form-analysis,  Structure,  and  Interpretation  with  °|d  seSmenta* 

its  false  ideas  of  dead,  disconnected  segments  of  music  (blocks  or  chunks)    xew  ° 

.      structure 
was  perfectly  useless,  musically,  to  the  student.    It  not  only  failed  to  give       .  ..      ' 

him  any  real  insight  into  what  constitutes  Music  in  the  act  of  perform-  j^oeressionai 
ance,  but  it  failed  to  draw  his  attention  to  Movement  as  the  basis, of  all  y£ew  0f  musi. 
Music,  and  it  was  therefore  positively  deadening  from  a  performing  point  cal  structure, 
of  view.  The  progressional  teaching  of  Musical  Structure  is  on  the  con- 
trary at  once  vital,  helpful,  and  interesting  to  every  Music-student,  what- 
ever his  status,  and  whatever  his  branch  of  study.  In  my  own  personal 
teaching  and  lectures,  I  had  for  many  years  enforced  this  principle  of 
"towardness"  as  the  basis  of  all  Music-shape  —  the  basis  of  all  music- 
teaching,  but  the  idea  was  not  made  public  in  printed  form  until  the  issue 
of  my  "Act  of  Touch"  (page  42)  in  1903,  and  my  "First  Principles"  in 
1905  —  see  page  126,  where  the  practical  application  of  this  study  is  sum- 
marized. In  the  present  lectures  (written  in  1909)  it  was  of  course  devel- 
oped and  amplified  still  further.  It  is  a  source  of  great  gratification 
to  me  to  find  that  it  is  now  being  generally  accepted,  at  least  by  the  more 
up-to-date  Theory  teachers  of  this  country.  For  instance,  in  a  recently 
issued  work  (1912)  on  "Phrasing  and  Form"  I  find  the  following  —  prac- 
tically a  quotation  from  a  synopsis  of  this  present  lecture  published  in 
"The  Music  Student"  of  April,  1911,  and  of  which  Synopsis  a  reprint  is 
given  in  the  Appendix  to  this  work:  "The  next  matter  to  which  attention 
"must  be  directed  in  order  to  arrive  at  any  intelligent  basis  for  our  phrasing 
"is  the  fact  that  everything  in  music  must  be  considered  in  the  light  of 
"progression,  or  movement  towards  some  more  or  less  clearly  defined  desti- 


36 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Some  ex- 
amples of 

the  pro  - 
gressional 
view  of 
structure. 


When  we  teach  a  baby  to  say  "Mamma"  and  "Papa"  we 
do  try  at  the  earliest  possible  moment  to  make  him  realize 
that  "Papa"  and  "Mamma"  do  mean  something  definite; 
in  fact  that  these  sounds  stand  for  two  very  definite  and 
important  people!  Nevertheless,  in  teaching  the  child  to 
talk  through  the  Piano,  the  inconceivable  folly  is  com- 
mitted of  allowing  him  to  babble  —  to  make  unmeaning 
noises;  and  this,  often  until  he  is  an  adult,  without  any 
attempt  to  make  him  realize  that  Music  consists  of  words 
and  phrases  —  connected  sound-movements  —  like  any  other 
language!1 

As  this  idea  of  looking  for  Shape  in  the  sense  of  progression 
—  or  "scanning"  —  may  be  unfamiliar  to  many  of  you,  let 
me  give  you  some  examples  of  what  I  mean.  Let  us  take 
the  first  half  of  "God  Save  the  King,"  as  one  of  the  simplest 
of  tunes.  It  consists  as  you  know  of  three  bits,  each  bit 
with  its  little  climax,  and  the  third  "bit"  forming  a  capping 
climax  to  the  other  two.    That  is,  the  first  bar  progresses  to 

"nation.  This  is  true  whether  we  have  in  our  thoughts  the  gradual  but 
"inevitable  working  up  of  some  extended  passage  towards  a  strong  emo- 
tional climax,  or  of  the  no  less  essential  'trend'  of  some  figure  of  a  few 
"  notes  towards  the  point  where  it  finds  its  own  completion,"  etc.  Further 
quotations  occur  on  subsequent  pages;  and  finally,  it  is  gratifying  to  find 
in  the  preface  of  his  work,  that  the  author  gracefully  acknowledges  the 
source  of  these  teachings,  and  that  he  has  presented  them  with  delightful 
conciseness. 

1  The  root  of  the  trouble  is  that  children  are  taught  Music  the  wrong 
side  up.  The  usual  false  beginning  is  to  try  to  make  them  associate  paper 
signs  with  keyboard-places,  instead  of  beginning,  as  one  should  do,  by 
trying  to  make  them  recognize  actual  sounds,  actual  Time,  and  Music- 
shapes, —  matters  which  are  mostly  left  to  dawn  upon  them  later  on, 
as  an  afterthought!  Mrs.  Spencer  Curwen,  in  her  admirable  "Child 
Pianist,"  started  the  crusade  against  this  topsy-turvydom,  and  her  views 
are  more  and  more  rapidly  gaining  ground,  as  we  see  by  the  various 
imitators  who  have  adopted  her  ideas. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      37 

the  second  (at  a),  the  third  bar  to  the  fourth  (at  b),  and  the 
fifth  bar  to  the  sixth  (at  c),  thus: 

Example  5. 


We  find  a  similar  structure,  and  it  is  a  very  usual  one, 
(two  short,  or  less  accented  progressions  capped  by  a  longer 
or  stronger  one)  in  the  opening  of  Schumann's  first  Novel- 
lette.  From  the  barring  of  this  (totally  incorrect  as  it 

is)  one  would  imagine,  that  the  piece  was  meant  to  sound  all 
upside-down  musically,  thus: 

Example  6a. 


Schumann's  Novellette  played  with  accentuation  as  barred  in  the 
original. 


But  of  course  he  did  not  mean  this;  therefore  here,  as  so 
often  elsewhere,  we  must  totally  disregard  the  written  bar- 
lines  (or  written  accentuation)  and  must  be  led  by  our  own 
musical  sense;  and  we  then  find  that  this  opening  phrase 
consists  of  three  progressions,  each  moving  towards  its  little 
climax  or  crisis,  and  the  three  together  moving  or  progressing 


301636 


38 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


towards  a  more  important  climax  —  that  of  the  complete 
phrase.     Thus : 


Example  66. 


Schumann's  Novellette,  played  with  correct  accentuation,  requiring 
the  bar-places  as  denoted  by  the  dotted  lines  at  b  (and  not  at  a  as  in  the 
original).1 

Theincor-  *  Composers,  in  the  past  (and  many  in  the  present),  do  not  seem  to 

rect  notation  have  realized  the  simple  fact,  that  the  only  possible  real  use  of  a  bar-line 
of  bar-hnes.    js  ^Q  mdicate  to  the  performer  where  the  pulse-swing  should  be. 

To  prevent  monotony,  a  musical  composer  will  often  purposely  alter 
the  straight  course  of  the  accentuation,  and  an  unmusical  or  inexpert 
composer  still  more  frequently  does  so  from  the  want  of  fine  feeling,  or 
from  ignorance;  but  both  types  seem  equally  to  be  obsessed  with  the  idea 
that  if  bar-lines  are  but  written  down  in  unbroken  sequence  (so  as  to  look 
symmetrical)  this  will  ensure  symmetry,  or  that  this  will  throw  dust  in 
the  eyes  of  people,  and  make  them  believe  the  work  to  be  symmetrically 
perfect — like  wallpaper!  As  a  matter  of  fact,  no  musician  does  want 
wall-paper  patterns  instead  of  music,  nor  does  the  placing  of  the  bar-fines 
where  they  are  not  wanted  by  the  sense  of  the  music,  alter  the  accentuation 
one  jot.  The  only  result  such  obsession,  carelessness  or  ignorance  can 
have,  is  to  puzzle  the  performer,  and  to  ensure  that  unmusical  players 
will  perform  the  piece  musically  "upside-down."  Even  many  of  the 
great  Masters  have  sinned  sorely  in  this  matter  of  the  true  notation  of 
their  works,  Schumann  and  Brahms  perhaps  most  of  all;  whereas  Beetho- 
ven's notation  is  perhaps  most  free  from  this  blemish.  In  the  old  poly- 
phonic writing  there  was  of  course  the  difficulty,  that  bar-lines  would  have 
been  required  separately  for  each  part,  certainly  a  chaos  when  four  or 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      39 

As  one  more  example  of  this  structure,  let  me  quote  from 
the  slow  movement  of  Beethoven's  Sonata,  Op.  2,  No.  2,  — 
thus: 
Example  7. 


Or  pictorially,  it  might  be  shown  thus: 
Example  8. 


All  this  shows  us  clearly  how  the  idea  of  phrase,  or  sen- 
tence, implies  progression  towards  some  more  or  less  definite 
point;  by  this  sense  of  progression,  of  his  being  led  some- 
where, the  listener's  attention  is  attracted,  and  is  retained.1 

more  parts  were  written  on  two  staves  only;  but  why  in  such  a  case  put 
bar-lines  at  all,  where  they  can  only  be  mis-leading? 

As  one  more  glaring  instance  of  such  wrong  barring  see  Chopin's  Prelude 
in  C  minor  —  the  true  bar-line  occurs  two  pulses  later  than  the  written 
bar-line.     But  such  cases  are  innumerable. 

1  As  to  the  word  "phrase":  it  really  does  not  signify  whether  we  con-  Astonomen- 
eider  the  musical  unit  to  be  a  "motif,"  "idea,"  "section,"  "phrase,"  or  clatureof 
"sentence."    All  this  is  purely  a  matter  of  mere  nomenclature,  music-  structural 
terminology  —  a  point  of  exceedingly  small  importance  artistically.  What  d6**"8* 
does  matter  is,  that  bar-lines  should  be  recognised  as  denoting  the  general 
swing  of  the  accentuation,  and  that  Music-units  (or  the  more  complex 
"phrase"  or  "sentence"  organisms)   are  always  in  themselves  again 
progressions  towards  definite  landmarks. 


40 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Harmonic 
movement 
necessary. 


We  shall  moreover  find  that  this  sense  of  going  somewhere, 
implies  that  there  must  be  a  succession  of  harmonies  (actual 
or  implied)  either  forming  or  leading  up  to  some  form  of 
harmonic  cadence;  we  must  have  this,  if  there  is  to  be  any 
definite  idea  of  Shape  in  what  we  accept  as  Music. 

Let  us  now  try  to  transcribe  "God  Save  the  King"  so 
that  it  shall  suggest  (as  far  as  possible)  only  one  harmony; 
hear  how  this  impoverishes  the  tune,  thus: 
Example  9. 


Or  better  still,  let  us  try  to  compose  a  theme  solely  on  one 
harmony,  and  we  shall  find  that  because  it  goes  nowhere 
harmonically,  nothing  seems  to  happen.     (See  Exp.  10a.) 
Example  10a. 

Alw~  ™«  T.AM. 


Whereas,  if  we  now  alter  the  same  theme  slightly,  so 
that  it  may  take  harmonies,  you  will  see  how  much  more 
clear  and  interesting  it  at  once  becomes: 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      41 

Example  106. 


You  see  now,  that  the  term  "harmonic  progression"  is 
really  a  most  apt  and  suggestive  term;  for  you  see,  that  a 
mere  succession  of  un-related  or  un-progressive  sounds  or 
chords  is  quite  meaningless.  To  have  any  meaning,  musi- 
cally, we  require  a  progress  of  chords,  intelligently  leading 
towards  definite  landmarks,  the  landmarks  in  key  and 
rhythm  which  we  call  "cadences."1 

1  Incidentally,  you  should  here  note,  that  the  very  process  itself  of  The  process 
learning,  or  assimilating  any  knowledge,  is  of  this  very  same  nature  —  it  ofmemoriz- 
is  but  a  form  of  progression.  ™*  a*so 

Isolated  facts  mean  nothing;  to  memorize  anything  the  only  possible  dePenas 
process  is  to  bring  the  something  you  wish  to  memorize  into  some  form  of  ^Btfnn 
■progression,  or  sequence  of  thought.  That  is,  you  must  chain  the  something 
you  want  to  fix  in  your  mind  to  something  already  stored  there;  you  must 
make  use  of  something  you  already  know,  so  that  it  shall  suggest  (as  a 
mental  progression)  the  something  fresh  which  you  want  to  fix  in  your 
memory. 

In  a  word,  you  must  build-on  to  the  knowledge  you  already  do  possess 
further  progressions  of  "onwardness,"  mentally. 

In  the  case  of  Musical-memory,  each  note,  each  chord  you  play,  must 


gression. 


42 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Deliberate 
indefinite- 
ness in 
composition. 


How  to  apply 
one's  mem- 
ory. 


Memory 

failure. 


True,  in  some  few  isolated  instances,  the  composer  has 
purposely  written  unclear,  shapeless,  jelly-like  music,  and 
not  inadvertently,  as  only  too  often  happens.    Wagner,  for 

be  made  to  suggest  the  next  note  or  chord,  etc.  And  unless  you  have 
made  a  perfect  chain  of  such  suggestion-connections,  you  do  not  remember 
and  cannot  remember  any  piece.  In  short,  remembrance  of  a  piece  means 
that  the  suggestion-channels  are  all  in  good  working  order. 

Vice  versa,  successfully  to  make  use  of  the  memory-connections  thus 
stored  in  your  mind,  you  must  during  performance  allow  the  thing  pres- 
ent and  realised  at  the  moment  to  suggest  (as  an  automatic  or  reflex  action) 
the  thing  which  is  to  follow  on.  That  is,  you  must  allow  the  memory  of 
each  succeeding  portion  of  the  text  to  be  automatically  revived  by  the 
rhythmic  swing  of  the  portion  of  the  passage  you  are  playing  at  the 
moment,  its  melodic  and  harmonic  progression,  its  mood,  and  each  note 
of  it  in  succession. 

In  short,  you  must  allow  .your  memory-stream  to  flow  in  the  channels 
or  courses  you  have  previously  made  for  it,  and  the  only  way  to  prompt 
these  memory-connections  into  action  is  by  keeping  your  mind  vividly 
present  on  the  actual  thing  you  are  doing  at  the  moment;  and  you  cannot 
help  your  memory  by  trying  to  recall  the  thing  ahead;  since  this  will 
disconnect  or  destroy  the  sequential  action  of  your  mind. 

The  moment  you  begin  to  doubt  your  memory's  capacity  to  "follow 
on,"  that  moment  you  will  hinder,  if  not  completely  stop  its  action.  // 
you  commit  the  fatal  blunder  of  trying  to  recall  the  next  note,  this  will  at 
once  paralyse  the  natural  and  safe  action  of  the  previously-made  mem- 
ory-channels; you  will  thus  stop  their  flow,  and  your  mind  will  seem  to 
be  a  blank  as  to  what  comes  next.  Here  it  is  not  a  case  of  your 

memory  being  incomplete  or  unreliable,  but  simply  that  you  are  prevent- 
ing its  natural  action.  Either  the  mental  successions  of  "onwardness" 
are  there,  or  they  are  not.  If  they  are  complete  they  will  act  with  cer- 
tainty if  you  let  them  do  so;  whereas,  if  they  are  not  properly  fixed  in 
your  mind,  then  no  attempt  to  recall  the  next  note  will  help  you  one 
jot. 

In  other  words,  if  these  mental  connections  or  chains  have  been  prop- 
erly linked-up,  you  can  only  stimulate  them  into  action  by  bringing  your 
attention  vividly  upon  the  point  you  are  engaged  upon  at  each  moment 
during  the  performance  of  the  piece  —  so  that  it  may  suggest  what  fol- 
lows.   Whereas  you  will  inevitably  paralyse  this  natural  sequential  action, 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      43 

instance,  has  used  this  device  in  the  Introduction  to  "Das 
Rheingold"  so  as  to  give  the  vague,  impalpable  effect  of 

if  you  try  to  wrench  your  mind  on  to  something  ahead,  —  something 
not  yet  actually  due  in  performance. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  these  progression-suggestions  are  not  firmly 
fixed  in  your  mind,  you  must  take  steps  to  strengthen  them,  on  the 
lines  above  indicated. 

Here  it  is  well  to  realise,  that  musical  memory  is  a  complex  phenome-  The  various 
non.    We  must  take  care  to  use  all  the  available  memory  channels;  and  kinds  of 
they  can  only  be  rendered  available  by  the  application  of  close  analysis,  nmsical 
consciously  or  unconsciously  given.    These  components  are  on  the  one  memoI7» 
side  purely  musical,  but  on  the  other  side  are  technical,  instrumental 
and  muscular,  or  gymnastical.  Hence,  we  must  analyse  and  thus 

memorise  the  musical  progressions  of  the  piece,  its  rhythmical,  melodic 
and  harmonic  progressions,  and  above  all  things  the  inflections  of  its 
moods  or  poetic  curves.  But  besides  this  strictly-speaking  musical 
memorising  of  the  piece  we  must  also  impress  our  eye-memory  with  the 
written  page,  and  with  the  lie  of  the  music  on  the  keyboard  —  as  key- 
board progressions. 

Added  to  all  this,  we  must  also  apply  our  muscular-memory  —  we  Theneces- 
must  fix  in  our  mind  the  physical  sensations  of  its  note-successions  upon  sitY  of  mus- 
the  keyboard,  and  the  technical  methods  of  their  execution.  cularmemory 

And  it  is  just  here  where  all  the  trouble  begins:  on  the  one  hand,  it  an 
is  impossible  to  give  one's  mind  to  the  musical  interpretation  of  a  quick  an^e 
movement,  unless  we  do  know  the  notes  of  it  so  well  that  we  need  no 
longer  question  what  they  are.  To  succeed  in  this,  however,  for  a  quick 
movement,  we  must  have  repeated  its  note-successions  often  enough  to 
impress  them  thoroughly  upon  our  automatic-centres,  so  that  our  fingers 
may  be  able  to  find  the  road  automatically.  Now  the  imminent  danger 
always  is,  that  in  trying  to  acquire  this  necessary  part  of  the  performance- 
memory,  we  may  totally  destroy  all  our  musical  control  over  the 
piece.  It  is  this  same  automatic  necessity  which  so  often  leads 

players  astray  into  the  acquisition  of  purely  automatic  and  mechanical 
methods  of  practice. 

The  only  remedy  and  preventive  is,  constantly  to  insist  on  musical  Silent 
attention;  and  often  to  practice  without  touching  the  keyboard  at  all.    With  practice, 
our  fingers  upon  the  keyboard,  it  is  only  too  easy  to  forget  to  direct 
them;  hence  the  great  value  of  silent  practice,  with  every  note-inflection 


44  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

water.     It  is  all  on  the  chord  of  E  flat,  you  remember  the 
rising  flowing  figure: 

Example  11. 


He  wishes  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  mass  of  water,  the 
Rhine,  not  seen  as  a  definite  sheet  of  water,  but  seen  from 
within  the  water,  from  inside  the  river;  and  he  could  not 
have  chosen  a  happier  way  of  making  the  musical  suggestion 
than  by  the  means  used.  It  has  no  surface,  no  bottom, 
and  after  ten  minutes  of  it  or  so,  you  feel  yourself  floating 
in  the  swirl  of  the  river  —  with  the  Rhinemaidens  —  and 

imagined,  and  its  impossibility  of  allowing  the  attention  to  flag,  even  for 
a  moment.  And  when  actual  keyboard-practice  is  imperative  during  the 
process  of  acquiring  the  necessary  automaticity  in  respect  to  the  key- 
board successions  of  the  notes,  even  in  this  case  never  to  allow  our 
musical  purpose  to  waver,  never  to  allow  our  automatic,  or  gymnastic 
faculty  to  gain  the  upper  hand  and  to  fulfil  its  sway  without  our  con- 
stantly directing  and  controlling  it  musically  by  our  mind-centres  —  our 
will-power,  our  musical  imagination  and  judgement. 
To  prevent  To  ensure  such  control  we  must  constantly  re-analyse  the  rhythmical 

"slithering."  constituents,  or  rhythmical  landmarks  of  every  agility-piece,  however 
old  an  acquaintance  it  may  be.  The  moment  we  thus  insist  on  compelling 
the  automatic  centres  to  fit  their  work  to  our  rhythmical  vision,  that 
moment  the  piece  no  longer  seems  to  "run  away,"  but  is  instead  per- 
fectly guided  by  our  musical  conscience.  Hence,  also  in  performance,  we 
must  always  insist  on  realising  the  time-place,  for  each  note;  and  our 
gymnastic  faculty  thus  becomes  our  obedient  servant  and  not  our  master. 
See  page  29  on  "Time-spot,"  page  30  "The  act  of  consciousness,"  and 
page  53  "Wrong  bass  notes,"  also  page  122  "On  the  memorising  of 
fingering."  Also  see  Additional  Note:  "The  cause  of  stammering  un- 
musically," page  59. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      45 


cannot  think  of  them  as  stage  people,  swinging  about  on 
iron  cages!1 

This  law  of  Progression  in  Music  applies  not  only  in  the 
case  of  the  phrase  or  the  sentence,  but  applies  universally, 
as  much  to  the  smallest  details  of  the  music  as  to  its  largest 
swings  of  form.  As  I  have  already  pointed  out  in  "  First 
Principles"  and  elsewhere,2  no  one  (not  even  a  child- 
beginner)  should  be  allowed  to  sound  any  succession  of 
sounds,  however  simple,  without  being  made  clearly  to 
understand  that  there  must  be  some  shape  or  progression 
even  in  such  primitive  attempts;   thus: 


Not 


Example  12. 


but 


—  therefore  in  fact  suggesting  harmonies;  for  instance: 

Example  13. 


1  Someone  has  asked,  "What  should  we  call  this  passage,  there  is  no 
'phrase'  really  in  question,  there  being  no  harmonic  progression?"  I 
should  define  the  figure  as  an  idea-unit  which,  purposely,  is  not  allowed 
to  become  definite  enough  to  form  a  "phrase." 

Purposely,  Wagner  has  left  the  Prelude  ambiguous,  sheer  invertebrate 
musical  protoplasm,  without  any  higher  organization  of  definite  shape; 
its  swelling,  musically  jelly-like  indefinite  mass  thus  accomplishes  its 
purpose  dramatically  and  scenically. 

*  "First  Principles  of  Pianoforte  Playing,"  page  126,  and  in  "The 
Child's  First  Steps." 


46 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Inaccuracy 
in  the  sub- 
divisions of 
the  pulses 
also  owing 
to  non-per- 
ception of 
the  element 
of  pro- 
gression. 


You  must  next  realize  that  it  is  from  non-perception  of  this 
very  point  (non-preception  of  the  fact  of  progression)  that 
results  all  the  rhythmical  "sloppiness"  so  lamentably  ram- 
pant; I  refer  to  that  unclear  playing  of  passage-work,  unclear 
execution  of  minute  contrasts  in  the  lengths  of  the  notes, 
details  seemingly  so  insignificant,  yet  upon  the  accuracy  of 
which  depends  so  much  of  our  enjoyment  of  the  music.1 

How  often  indeed  do  we  find  the  inexperienced  (or  bad) 
teacher's  pupils  playing  triplets  or  quadruplets  of  notes  all 
clipped  together,  thus: 

Example  14. 


Do  you  see  the  cause  of  this  fault? 

It  is  clear  enough,  when  you  realise  that  you  cannot  think 
music  (that  is  rhythm)  unless  you  always  definitely  think  of 
its  Progression  —  we  are  constantly  compelled  to  come  back 
to  this  point! 

To  correct  a  fault  of  this  nature,  all  you  have  to  do  then, 
is  to  make  the  pupil  realise  that  the  triplet  or  quadruplet, 
etc.,  does  not  finish  with  the  beginning  of  the  sound  of  its 
last  note,  but,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  group  lasts  up  to 
the  beginning  of  the  first  note  of  the  next  group  —  the  next 
pulse-throb.     Thus: 

Example  15. 


1  In  playing,  the  terms  clearness  and  cleanliness  refer  to  two  distinct 
things;  "clearness"  refers  to  rhythmical  accuracy,  while  "cleanliness" 
refers  to  the  sounding  of  the  right  notes  —  without  any  "splitting"  of 
them,  etc. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      47 


You  must  show  him,  that  time  in  music  always  implies 
the  dividing  up  of  Space;  and  in  this  particular  concrete 
case,  that  it  means  movement  in  equal  divisions  of  time 
always  up  to  the  next  following  pulse-throb. 

In  short,  you  must  always  think  of  the  beat  ahead,  must 
always  lead  up  to  it,  divide  up  towards  it,  if  the  "inside" 
notes  of  passages  are  to  be  clear  to  the  listener. 

And  this  rule  applies  not  only  when  you  have  the  "inside" 
notes  (or  in-between  notes)  evenly  distributed  between  the 
pulses,  but  also  when  you  have  more  complex  rhythmical 
figures  providing  the  in-between  sounds,  such  as: 
Example  16. 


Moreover,  it  applies  when  you  have  figures  ending  with  Progression 
unaccented  notes;  and  it  applies  still  with  equal  force  even  t0^^s 
when  you  have  a  whole  phrase  or  sentence  moving  towards  climax  of 
its  rhythmical  climax  with  a  decrease  of  tone.1  phrase  in 

Let  me  give  you  an  example  of  both  points :  *pite  of    M 

qc  crescendo 

In  Chopin's  first  Prelude  we  have  a  figure  with  such 
unaccented  ending: 
Example  17. 

rubato 


1  We  shall  see  later  on,  that  Rubato  must  here  come  to  our  aid  to  make 
clear  the  onward  striving  of  the  phrase. 


48 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 
rit. 


In  the  second  subject,  from  Beethoven's  Sonata  Op.  22,  we 
have  the  second  point  illustrated,  as  well  as  the  first:1 


Example  18. 


tejnf>o 


1  At  first  sight  this  Beethoven  excerpt,  from  Op.  22,  almost  looks  like 
a  case  of  misplaced  bar-lines;  but  it  is  quite  correctly  barred,  for  the  sfs 
are  here  true  syncopations,  which  are  felt  to  go  against  the  true  rhythmical 
pulse,  and  which  last  must  persist  in  spite  of  these  sfs.  The  bar-line  (or 
true  pulse)  may  be  shown  by  making  the  notes  on  it  slightly  staccato, 
as  I  have  suggested.  The  whole  tune  grows  towards  the  chord  of  F  at 
(a).  This  is  made  clear  by  employing  a  very  slight  nibato  during  the  last 
four  bars  —  very  slight  indeed,  so  slight  as  to  be  unnoticeable  even  to 
pedantically-inclined  ears. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      49 

Again,  in  Beethoven's  32  Variations  in  C  minor,  we  have 
such  figure  with  unaccented  ending  in  the  octave  Varia- 
tion: 

Example  19. 


You  see,  in  all  these  cases,  the  figure  falls  away  as  it  were 
at  its  end,  before  reaching  the  next  pulse.  Nevertheless, 
unless  we  keep  that  next  pulse  accurately  in  view  —  unless 
we  measure  the  places  for  the  earlier  notes  as  striving  on 
towards  such  pulse  —  we  cannot  accurately  place  them  in 
Time,  and  our  performance  will  hence  be  inevitably  ruined, 
musically. 

Again,  in  passages  divided  (or  broken)  between  the  hands,  Passages 
such  as  octave-passages,  etc.,  how  often  does  the  pupil  spoil 


broken  be- 
tween hands 


these  rhythmically,  by  clipping  together  the  two  successive  _  correct 
hands.  thinking  of 

The  remedy  is  simple  enough,  immediate,  and  again  of  them* 
the  same  nature.  Simply  insist  on  the  successive  notes  of 
the  passage  being  thought  of  as  one  continuous  flow  of  (or 
succession  in)  rhythm;  it  must  not  be  thought  as  consisting 
of  two  hands,  each  doing  something  different,  and  therefore 
rhythmically  disconnected. 

For   instance,   the  semiquaver   octaves  of   the  coda  of 
Mendelssohn's  Rondo,  Op.  14,  are  usually  clipped  thus: 


50 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Example  20a. 


(Incorrectly  played.) 

Do  not  allow  yourself  to  think  of  the  two  hands,  as  each 
one  doing  something  independently,  but  insist  on  thinking 
such  a  passage  as  continuous,  rhythmically;  think  of  it  in 
groups  of  six  semiquavers,  each  one  leading  up  to  the  begin- 
ning of  each  next  group,  and  the  supposed  "difficulty"  at 
once  vanishes  forever.     Thus: 

Example  206. 


(Correctly  played.) 


The  rule  of  course  also  holds  good  when  the  passage  is  of 
single  notes  in  each  hand,  instead  of  octaves;  also,  when 
the  alternations  between  the  hands  occur  after  several  notes 
have  been  taken  successively  by  each  hand  —  when  the 
alternations  between  the  hands  occur  after  whole  groups  of 
notes. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      51 


We  must,  however,  bear  in  mind  that  such  rhythmical  Broken 
faults  do  often  and  quite  easily  arise  in  such  alternating  J^^J' 
passages  from  quite  another  cause,  and  that  is  from  faulty  errors. 
Key-treatment  —  faulty  Touch-habits. 

In  fact,  such  passages  are  often  thus  made  "difficult," 
simply  by  disobedience  to  "the  Law  of  Resting,"  which  I 
have  so  strongly  insisted  upon  in  my  various  works  on 
Touch  and  Technique.1 

Indeed,  the  law  of  continuously  resting  upon  the  keyboard 
during  the  extent  of  each  phrase  may  never  be  disregarded 
with  impunity,  not  even  in  the  case  of  "divided"  passages. 
The  point  to  remember  therefore,  is,  that  in  all  such  passages 
(passages  divided  between  the  hands)  the  keyboard  must 
never  be  quitted  by  one  hand  until  the  next  hand  has  a  finger 
on  its  own  first  note;  the  passage  is  thus  linked-up  con- 
tinuously in  a  chain  of  "Restings,"  alternately  taken  up  by 
the  successive  hands,  and  without  break  during  the  course 
of  each  phrase.    For  instance: 

Not  thus: 

Example  21a. 

Allegro  con  faoco 


Refer  also  to  page  53  re  "Wrong  Bass-notes,"  etc. 


52 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


But  thus: 

Example  21b. 


(Prelude  and  Fugue,  Mendelssohn.) 
/ 


/ 

ft  *    *                 *- 

i    p         j   pj 

l\| ,  <«"f     r       ii- , 

I 

las' 

etc.         ; 

(The  lecturer  here  showed  how  each  hand  in  succession  carries  on  the 
continuity  of  contact  with  the  keyboard  —  the  hands  rising  off  the  keyboard, 
but  each  one  remaining  in  contact  with  it  until  the  next  has  found  its  note.) 

The  following  two  excerpts  are  also  suggestive : 

(From  Concert-piece  in  A  minor,  Tobias  Matthay.1) 
Example  22. 

Presto  


By  permission  of  Messrs.  Ricordi. 


NATURE  OP  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      53 

(From  Coda  of  Rhapsody,  No.  II,  Liszt.1) 
Example  23. 


Prestissimo 


T 

• 

• 

■ 

1 

■f- 

ft 

qUEfl 

• 

-  % 

r    • 

*"    f 

\ 

r 

w — : 

T     ' 

r 

:r     : 

r 

etc 

rib — * 

a — 

p=j 

r* 

.M 

-4 

~4 

L 

-4 

3 

•J- 

^-m 

oilier  notes. 


It  is  of  no  use  trying  to  correct  the  playing  of  wrong  notes  Wrong  bass 
or  "split"  notes  merely  by  telling  the  pupil  to  be  "more  notes  — and 
careful"  —  this  may  happen  to  have  some  result,  or  it  may 
simply  make  the  pupil  more  nervous.  The  only  true  cor- 
rection is  always  to  point  out  the  cause  of  the  fault.  In  case 
of  passages  lying  under  the  fingers,  or  passages  divided 
between  the  hands,  this  cause  may  be  found  in  neglect  of 
that  law  of  "Resting"  on  the  keyboard  which  should  render 
all  such  passages  really  continuous,  physically  on  the  key- 
board.2 But  in  the  case  of  skips  and  bass  notes  an  addi- 
tional cause  of  error  may  occur: 

Such  wrong  notes  often  arise  from  a  non-remembrance  of 
what  should  be  the  right  notes,  at  the  moment.  The  fault 
here  arises  from  a  totally  wrong  musical  outlook.    First  of 

1  In  this  last  illustration  both  hands  should  remain  in  contact  with  the 
keyboard,  at  least  so  long  as  the  passage  remains  pianissimo. 
*  Refer  to  page  51. 


54 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Progression 
in  its  larger 
swings. 


A  warning 
against 
purely 
mechanical 
"  scanning." 


all,  note  that  you  should  always  think  the  music  from  the 
bass  upwards,  and  not  from  the  treble  downwards,  and 
secondly,  note  that  you  cannot  recall  a  mentally-detached 
bass  note  any  more  than  you  can  recall  or  remember  any 
other  fact  or  circumstance,  if  you  detach  it  from  its 
memory-suggestions.  The  only  true  correction  of  such 
bass-note  guessing  (and  failing)  is  therefore  to  insist  on 
the  musical-succession  of  the  basses  being  always  noticed 
and  noted.  Here  again,  as  everywhere  else,  you  see  the 
fact  of  progression  faces  us;  here  it  is  the  progression  of 
each  sound  from  and  to  its  neighboring  one  which  must 
be  noted,  and  thus  fixed  in  the  memory  —  the  only  way  in 
which  any  sounds  can  be  memorized  musically.  The  basses, 
in  playing,  must  therefore  be  thought  as  such  successions, 
and  not  as  a  wild  "grabbing"  into  unknown  space  (down- 
wards from  the  melody)  —  in  any  case  a  proceeding  totally 
against  all  laws  of  Key-treatment!  (Refer  to  pp.  41-44, 
"  On  Memorizing.") 

We  have  now  seen  how  the  idea  of  progression  will  help 
us  to  understand  the  nature  of  Phrasing  —  the  very  life  of 
music;  and  how  we  cannot  accurately  "place"  even  the 
inside  notes  of  a  Pulse  (i.  e.,  the  notes  between  two  pulse- 
throbs)  unless  we  constantly  insist  upon  the  keen  realisation 
of  this  element  of  "towardness"  or  "onwardness"  (as  one 
may  aptly  term  it)  and  further,  that  it  still  applies  when 
figures  and  phrases  have  unaccented  endings.1 

1  In  attempting  thus  to  "scan"  or  analyse  the  structure  of  the  Music 
one  must,  however,  take  care  not  to  fall  into  the  error  of  doing  this 
mechanically  —  solely  by  rule.  So  far  from  doing  this,  one  must  always 
allow  one's  judgement  to  be  swayed  by  the  feeling  to  be  conveyed  —  else 
the  result  may  after  all  be  totally  unmusical. 

For  instance,  the  rule  is,  that  in  a  full  close  the  tonic  chord  falls  on  the 
more  accented  portion  of  the  bar.  It  is  a  rule  with  many  exceptions, 
but  it  has  led  certain  one-sided  musicians  totally  to  mis-scan  Music;  for 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      55 

But  not  only  must  one  think  "towards"  pulse,  and 
towards  phrase-climax,  one  must  also  think  towards  the 
greater  crisis-points  of  the  larger  Shape-outlines,  for  the 
same  law  applies  with  equal  rigor  in  the  performance  of 
the  larger  ideas  of  Shape  and  Form.  Continuity  in  per- 
formance (and  in  composition)  still  depends  on  the  same 
principle,  carried  out  however  on  a  larger  scale.  That  is, 
we  must  always  have  a  continuous  travelling  towards  well- 
noted  musical  land-marks,  and  the  proportions  of  the 
smaller  details  of  movement  must  nevertheless,  all  the  time, 
be  strictly  subservient  to  those  larger  outlines,  themselves 
wrought  by  this  constant  principle  of  progression. 

instance,  I  have  seen  the  Scherzo  of  Beethoven's  Sonata,  Op.  28,  made  to 
consist  of  four-bar  phrases  with  the  acceDt  on  the  last  bar,  the  tonic 
chord!    See  Exp.  24,  at  b' 
Example  24. 

J. 


'a,"  correctly  scanned  rhythm. 
cb,"  incorrectly  scanned  rhythm. 


As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  true  accentuation  here  lies  just  the  opposite 
way  —  the  dominant  in  the  cadence  each  time  carrying  the  accent,  see  "  a." 
It  is  this  very  "contrariness"  of  its  harmonies  which  forms  the  basis  of 
the  fun  and  humor  of  the  movement.  The  proof  of  the  correctness  of 
this  scanning  lies  in  the  last  octave  of  the  piece,  for  this  is  the  long  deferred 
resolution  of  the  preceding  cadences  (so  comically  against-the-grain)  it  is 
the  solution  of  the  rhythmical  riddle,  since  this  octave  cannot  be  con- 
strued as  a  syncopation.  Whereas  it  would  have  to  be  so  considered  in 
the  fallacious  reading  alluded  to. 


56  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

Indeed,  in  a  really  largely  laid-out  movement,  such  as 

we  find  with  Beethoven,  or  with  Tschaikovsky,  we  must 

often  be  content  almost  to  gloss-over  quite  interesting  points 

of  expression-detail,  so  that  we  may  not  risk  blurring  the 

clearness  of  the  large  designs  of  these  masters.1 

To  keep  the       Now,  success  in  this  respect  (to  keep  the  outlines  clear) 

whole  in  view  jn  fae   en(j  resolves  itself   purely  into  a  question  of  — 

of  memory.    Memory.     Whether  we  are  laying  out  a  large  movement, 

or  a  small  one,  it  is  absolutely  essential  that  we  should 

vividly  remember  the  exact  proportion  of  musical  importance 

attaching  to  each  of  its  component  sections  and  climaxes,  to 

its  variously  contrasting  subjects,  sentences,  phrases,  ideas, 

down  to  the  actual  importance  of  each  note  employed. 

Only  by  such  perfect  memory  of  all  its  constituents  can  we 
hope  to  produce  a  musical  picture  perfect  in  its  perspective, 
perfect  in  its  outlines  —  perfect  as  a  Whole.2 

1  Certainly,  in  a  measure,  the  same  care  is  required  in  works  of  smaller 

calibre,  although  it  is  easier  to  keep  Outline  in  view  in  a  short  movement. 

The  process  of  giving  due  proportion  to  the  various  sections  of  a  large 

design  and  to  the  details  of  a  small  movement  does  however  not  really 

differ  in  principle  from  the  process  of  giving  a  single  phrase  correctly. 

Thinking  of         *  In  "thinking  of  the  whole"  this  must  not  be  misunderstood  to  mean 

the  "whole"  that  one  should  be  aware  of  the  whole  piece  all  the  time  —  at  one  time  — 

expounded,     that  is  absurd  and  impossible.    Again,  when  we  realize  that  we  "must 

think  of  every  note,"  this  does  not  mean  that  we  must  think  of  all  the  notes 

of  the  whole,  all  at  one  time — that  is  equally  absurd. 

What  all  this  means  is,  that  in  thinking  of  each  note  as  we  come  to  it,  we 
may  recognise  and  remember  what  its  importance  is  relatively  to  the 
picture  as  a  Whole;  we  must  remember  the  proportionate  "value"  of 
each  phrase,  each  bar,  each  note  at  the  moment  we  are  engaged  in  repro- 
ducing it,  and  feeling  it.  In  other  words,  we  must  have  an  accurate 
memory  of  the  "value"  of  each  note  relatively  to  the  whole  —  from  having 
recognised  what  is  required  of  each  note-detail  to  build  up  that  Whole 
successfully;  exactly  as  we  must  recognise  what  value  to  giye  to  each 
blob  of  color  in  painting  a  picture,  if  the  result  is  to  be  harmonious; 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      57 

This  kind  of  memory  is,  indeed,  the  hardest  task  of  the 
player  —  and  I  think  it  really  is  harder  in  our  art  than  in 
any  other. 

But  although  this  is  the  most  difficult  thing  to  learn  — 
this  necessity  of  constantly  keeping  in  mind  the  Whole  —  the 
teacher  nevertheless  must  unremittingly  insist  on  the  pupil 
attempting  this  task,  from  his  veriest  beginnings  in  the 
simplest  music.  For  this  attitude  is  the  only  correct  one 
in  Performance,  just  as  it  is  also  the  only  correct  one  in 
Composition,  in  Painting,  Sculpture  and  in  fact  in  all  the 
arts.  It  is  an  attitude  obviously  in  total  antagonism  to 
that  "doing  of  details  for  their  own  sake"  which  I  have 
already  animadverted  upon. 

Thus  we  come  back  to  the  old  truism  —  that  we  must 
never  allow  ourselves  to  apply  the  Means  of  expression  for 
their  own  sake,  but  always  for  the  sake  of  expressing  some- 
thing seen  or  felt  ....  not  Doing  for  the  sake  of  Doing, 
but  always  Doing  only  for  the  sake  of  something  beautiful 
which  we  are  perceiving  at  that  moment.1 

and  this  recognition  of  the  constituent  values  can  only  be  derived  from 
an  accurate  memory  of  the  Whole  of  these  constituents,  each  one,  as  we 
come  to  it. 

1  Discussion  of  this  necessity  of  attending  to  Shape,  whether  in  play-  Perception 
ing  or  composing  —  and  incidentally  also  when  we  are  listening  —  here  °*  a  new 
tempts  me  to  a  rather  wide  digression.    We  all  know,  or  should  know,  composition, 
how  extremely  difficult  it  is  for  us  to  take  in  a  new  musical  work,  how 
we  must  hear  it  more  than  once  before  we  can  really  see  it  —  indeed,  must 
hear  it  many  times  before  we  can  really  perceive  its  sense,  especially  if  it 
is  a  work  of  any  serious  musical  import. 

Now  we  shall  find,  that  really  to  perceive  a  new  work  at  one  hearing  is 
not  at  all  a  matter  of  difficulty,  but  is  one  of  sheer  impossibility  —  sheer 
physical  and  psychical  impossibility.  The  ground  we  have  just  gone 
over  yields  us  the  explanation  of  this  fact. 

In  viewing  a  picture  which  is  new  to  us,  we  cannot  realize  what  it 
means  until  we  perceive  the  relationships  of  its  various  parts;  we  cannot 


58  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

perceive  its  general  shape,  nor  the  meaning  of  its  details,  except  by  com- 
paring its  various  portions  or  constituents. 

Necessarily,  this  implies  that  our  eyes  must  run  over  its  various  out- 
lines again  and  again,  until  the  rapidly  gained  memory  of  these  details 
thus  enables  us  to  form  a  conception  of  the  Whole. 

In  comparison  with  this  process  of  perception,  how  extreme  is  the 
disadvantage  under  which  a  new  musical  work  is  compelled  to  make  its 
first  appeal  to  the  public  ear!  Without  our  knowing  what  is  going  to 
happen,  the  musical  picture  is  unrolled  before  our  mind  at  one  single 
glance!  It  is  gradually  unrolled  and  obscured  again,  beginning  at  one 
corner  and  finishing  at  the  other  extreme  corner. 

Now,  if  it  be  a  good  composition,  it  is  so  on  condition  that  the  first  bar 
(and  every  subsequent  bar)  is  in  perfect  relationship  to  every  other  bar  of 
the  piece  —  even  those  bars  as  yet  unheard.  But  as  we  cannot  perceive 
these  relationships  at  a  first  hearing,  we  cannot  possibly  realise  the  mean- 
ing of  the  major  portion  of  the  piece,  however  quick  our  perceptions,  since 
we  cannot  have  any  notion  what  the  unheard  portions  are  going  to  be 
until  they  have  actually  been  presented  at  least  once  to  our  ears.  That  is, 
we  cannot  possibly  perceive  the  various  relationships  of  the  details  of 
Shape  and  Progression  of  a  piece  until  we  have  had  the  opportunity  of 
at  least  once  hearing  all  and  every  part  of  it,  seeing  that  the  earlier  portions 
can  only  derive  their  true  significance  from  the  balance  given  them  by 
the  later  portions. 

Here  we  clearly  see  why  it  is  that  a  new  musical  work,  even  of  the 
highest  merit  —  or  because  of  that  —  takes  so  long  before  it  is  accepted. 
In  the  case  of  lengthy  works,  there  is  no  remedy  available;  it  is  not 
practicable  to  repeat  a  "Gotterdammerung"  several  times  in  one  evening, 
even  were  a  hearer  capable  of  enjoying  the  process,  and  so  one  must  trust 
to  the  audience  taking  the  trouble  to  study  such  huge  works  before  trying 
to  appreciate  an  actual  "first  performance." 

But  in  the  case  of  short  instrumental  or  vocal  works  of  serious  content, 
given  for  the  first  time  in  public,  I  do  seriously  put  forward  and  plead 
for  the  adoption  of  the  custom  of  an  immediate  repetition  of  them; 
such  works  should  be  performed  at  least  twice  in  immediate  succession. 
This  would  give  worthy  new  music  a  far  better  chance  of  being  accepted 
forthwith. 

The  old  masters  unconsciously  felt  this,  when,  in  their  Sonata  move- 
ments, they  insisted  on  repeating  all  the  subject-matter,  before  proceeding 
to  its  amplification. 


NATURE  OF  MUSICAL  ATTENTION  AND  MUSICAL  SHAPE      59 

A  musical  work  of  serious  import  does  not  consist  of  a  mere  succession 
of  surprise-shocks  to  the  musical  ear,  although  there  is  also  a  demand  and 
place  (happily  limited)  for  such  form  of  nerve-excitement  or  sensation- 
mongery  in  music.  The  real  backbone  of  any  musical  work,  deserving 
the  name  of  composition,  is  (and  ever  will  be)  its  Shapeliness,  its  archi- 
tecture, its  emotional  and  rhythmical  continuity  and  strength;  and  this 
element  must  necessarily  largely  remain  hidden  from  us,  when,  at  a  first 
performance,  we  are  compelled  to  go  forward  step  by  step  in  the  dark  — 
not  having  traversed  the  ground  previously  with  our  musical  eyes. 

ADDITIONAL  NOTE 

Much  bad  playing,  stumbling  and  stuttering,  often  arises  merely  The  cause  of 
from  a  non-realisation  of  the  fact  that  all  memorising,  whatever  its  nature,  stammering 
can  only  be  achieved  by  impressing  upon  our  mind  the  requisite  and  unmusically. 
correct  progressions,  sequences,  continuities,  or  chains  of  succession  of 
the  music  in  all  its  details. 

The  teacher  must  therefore  never  allow  a  pupil  to  try  to  "correct"  a 
fault,  whether  slip  of  the  finger,  wrong  note,  wrong  time,  tone  or  duration, 
by  his  playing  the  right  effect  after  the  wrong  one. 

It  must  be  made  plain  that  so  far  from  being  a  correction,  such  pro- 
ceeding is  indeed  wn-practice.  By  playing  the  right  note  in  succession 
after  the  wrong  one  we  tend  to  impress  a  totally  wrong  succession  upon 
our  minds,  and  shall  therefore  risk  repeating  the  blunder  and  its  sup- 
posed correction  the  very  next  time  we  play  the  passage;  and  if  we  re- 
peat it  we  shall  be  a  good  way  on  towards  ensuring  a  stumble  or  stutter 
at  that  place. 

The  only  true  correction  is  to  substitute  the  correct  succession  of  sounds 
—  to  go  back  and  move  across  the  damaged  place  while  carefully  omitting 
the  hiatus. 


SECTION  III 

THE  ELEMENT  OF  RUBATO 

Tempo-con-       One  cause  of  the  failure  of  the  inexperienced  to  keep  in 
tinuity,  why   yjew  ^he  whole  of  a  piece  (while  trying  to  be  careful  of  its 
nece*•a^y•     details)  lies  in  their  non-realization  of  the  fact  already  in- 
sisted upon:   that   there  must  always  be  continuity  in  the 
tempo  if  the  course  of  the  piece  is  to  remain  unbroken. 

Remember,  every  time  you  change  the  tempo,  your  listener 
has  to  start  afresh  with  you,  and  has  to  readjust  himself  to 
the  new  tempo.  This  engenders  a  complete  disorganization 
of  the  piece,  if  it  is  a  continuous  composition;  and  if  this 
varying  of  the  tempo  is  persisted  in,  not  only  does  it  lead 
to  discomfort,  but  to  positive  irritation,  although  the  listener 
may  remain  unaware  of  the  actual  cause  of  his  troubles. 

A  simple  cure  in  this  case  is  to  make  your  pupil  walk 

round  the  room  several  times,  and  to  insist  on  his  suddenly 

altering  his  gait-tempo  every  few  steps.    This  will  make 

him  look  and  feel  such  a  lunatic,  that  he  will  remember  the 

lesson  for  the  rest  of  his  days. 

Continuity         Continuity  in  performance,  of  course,  does  not  depend 

toSen(d  so^v  on  obedience  to  this  law  of  continuity  of  tempo;   it 

emotional      depends  also  upon  the  due  planning-out  of  the  Tone-values, 

pianning-out  and  upon  the  correct  planning-out  of  the  emotional  stress 

of  the  piece. 

In  this  planning-out  a  gradual  increase  and  decrease 
of  tempo  itself  may  often  help  as  well  as  such  variations 
applied  to  tone-differences.  But  this  leads  me  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  a  detail  of  expression  which,  while  it  is  one  of  the 

60 


THE   ELEMENT   OF    RUBATO  61 

most  powerful  and  potent,  is  at  the  same  time  one  of  the 
least  understood.  And  it  is  one  which  is  most  rarely  taught 
correctly  (even  when  the  attempt  is  made)  since  it  involves 
a  principle  believed  to  be  mysterious,  although  its  compre- 
hension is  perfectly  simple.  I  allude  to  the  Principle  op 
Rubato.1 

Indeed,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  that  Rubato  is  gen-  True  nature 
erally  quite  misunderstood,  even  by  those  who  may  them-  ^^bato,-te 
selves  apply  it  correctly  enough  in  their  own  performances,  misunder 

Often  enough  I  hear  of  teachers  who  tell  their  pupils  stood, 
they  "must  not  play  Rubato."  Such  teachers  find  them- 
selves compelled  to  take  this  step,  simply  because  their  pupils 
have  not  been  correctly  shown  how  to  keep  time,  nor  the 
real  significance  of  Rubato;  and  because  these  pupils  there- 
fore play  absurdly  meaningless  ritardos  and  accellerandos,  in 
place  of  the  required  musically-helpful  and  true  Rubatos. 

Again,  it  seems  incredible  that  any  musician  in  his  senses 
could  make  the  absurd  mistake  of  supposing  that  Rubato 
implies  any  breaking  of  time.  Yet  I  know  of  a  number  of 
instances  where  quite  well-known  professors  deliberately  tell 
their  pupils:  "  You  must  not  play  Chopin  in  time!" 

1  Since  I  first  gave  this  lecture,  an  amusing  case  in  point  has  pre-  Rubato  is  no 
sented  itself.    In  a  book  recently  published  (apparently  for  the  sole  pur-  mystery,  it  is 
pose  of  abusing  my  technical  teachings)  the  author  realizes  that  there  neither 
must  be  a  something  apart  from  tone-inflection,  which  plays  a  very  import-      s"ent_ 
ant  part  in  musical  expression;  but,  wanting  as  he  is  in  that  very  faculty  f™"*     ^°r„ 
of  "analysis"  which  he  so  much  deprecates  and  despises  —  that  "ration- 
alism" which  he  so  vehemently  girds  against  —  he  fails  to  diagnose  what 
is  the  true  nature  of  this,  to  him,  mysterious  Something.    Hence  he 
lands  himself  in  quagmires  of  verbiage,  in  "telepathy,"  and  in  hibernian- 
isms,  such  as  "silent  sound,"  etc.    Not  possessing  this  despised  analyti- 
cal faculty  he,  in  his  blindness,  fails  to  run  to  earth  and  diagnose  this 
very  "rational"  but  necessary  element  of  Rubato,  as  the  cause  of  his  sup- 
posed "silent  sound"  and  "telepathic"  effects! 


62  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

Of  course,  both  these  classes  of  professors  are  equally  in 
the  wrong  —  those  who  object  to  Rubato,  and  those  who 
condone  Time-breaking  —  and  their  teachings  only  prove 
too  conclusively  how  thoroughly  they  have  failed  to  grasp 
the  true  nature  of  Rubato  as  an  important  and  all-pervad- 
ing Means  of  Expression.  True,  their  musical  sense  is 
strong  enough  to  make  them  feel  that  Time  must  often 
diverge  from  a  sheer  straight  line,  but  so  little  reasoning 
power  have  these  artists  (yes,  they  play  quite  passably)  that 
they  are  quite  unable  to  analyse  what  they,  themselves, 
unconsciously  succeed  in  doing  in  order  to  prevent  this  very 
"squareness"  which  they  quite  justly  loathe;  and  such 
teachers  thus  find  themselves  at  an  impasse,  for  they  cannot 
find  a  way  of  rectifying  the  musical  chaos  into  which  they 
have  misled  their  pupils! 

It  really  amounts  to  crass  stupidity  in  the  case  of  men 
who  have  worked  at  their  profession  for  years,  although  it 
may  be  regarded  as  a  pardonable  sin  in  the  case  of  inex- 
perienced young  teachers. 
Ritardos  and      Now,  as  I  insist  on  the  absolute  necessity  for  continuity 
Acceiieran-    jn  faQ  performance  of  a  continuously  built-up  composition, 

dos  are  not  ,  .  .  ,     .  .....  .. 

Rubato.  an0-  as  t"ls  can  only  be  secured  by  insisting  upon  continuity 
of  tempo,  it  follows,  that  constantly  recurring  ritardos  and 
accellerandos  are  inadmissible  as  a  means  of  expression.1 
Nevertheless,  in  playing,  we  are  often  compelled  to  adopt  a 
device  employed  in  ordinary  speech,  a  device  to  which  we 
resort  when  we  wish  to  emphasize  words  without  raising  the 
voice;  for  we  are  then  compelled  to  give  more 

time  to  those  words. 


1  Ritardos  and  accellerandos  (in  place  of  Rubato)  are  often  marked  by 
mistake  by  composers  who  have  not  carefully  enough  analysed  the  per- 
formance of  their  own  works.    See  Notes,  pages  38,  71  and  89. 


THE    ELEMENT   OF   RUBATO  63 

Herein,  then,  we  perceive  the  foundation  and  necessity  The  true 
of  Rubato :  we  wish  to  emphasize  certain  notes  without  giving  ^atj°Mle  « 
them  undue  tonal  emphasis  and  we  then  naturally  dwell  more 
on  those  notes  —  we  spend  more  time  upon  them  than  is  their 
natural  due.  But,  as  continuity  in  Tempo  remains 

inexorable  the  only  way  to  reconcile  these  two  apparently 
opposite  requirements  (those  of  continuity  and  time-leaning) 
is  to  bend  the  Time  and  not  to  break  it.  If,  therefore,  we 
wish  to  give  extra  time  to  certain  notes,  we  must  correspond- 
ingly take  away  time  from  other  notes,  to  make  up  for  the 
extra  time  thus  spent;  or  again,  if  we  wish  to  hasten  certain 
notes  of  a  passage, we  must  delay  other  notes  correspondingly 
for  the  same  reason;  and  thus  we  shall  be  able  rigidly  to 
keep  to  our  Tempo  outline,  in  spite  of  all  this  Time-bending 
and  swerving. 

In  fact,  we  may,  and  should  in  nearly  all  music,  thus  Time-curves 
curve  round  the  line  of  an  otherwise  straight-on  Pulse,  but  «"■?•■* 

°^  '  required. 

while  we  do  this  we  must  never  forget  the  line's  true  position 
in  Time-space.  An  analogy  can  be  shewn  to  the  eye  by 
contrasting  a  straight  line  with  another  drawn  in  curves  or 
otherwise  ornamented,  since  such  ornamentation  need  not 
destroy  the  true  basic  linear  progression.  See  a,  b  and  c, 
Exp.  25: 

Example  25. 


a,  b  and  c  in  above  example  may  be  used  to  denote  Rubato;  whereas  d  is 
a  bad  Rubato,  since  the  space  covered  on  each  side  of  the  horizontal  line 
does  not  here  balance — does  not  "  lead  back  to  the  pulse." 


64 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Rubato  in 

modern 

music. 


Thus  in  Rubato,  we  may  seemingly  disregard  the  pulse, 
or  even  the  bar-lines  for  several  recurrences,  and  yet  we  must 
never,  while  giving  such  Time-curves,  lose  sight  of  the  place 
where  the  bar-line  or  pulse  does  recur  at  the  end  of  such 
Rubato.  We  see  therefore  that  Rubato-playing,  so  far  from 
implying  any  weakness  rhythmically,  on  the  contrary  de- 
mands a  particularly  strongly  cultivated  feeling  for  Pulse. 
Otherwise,  when  in  a  Rubato  we  are  compelled  to  omit 
allusion  to  the  pulse  for  several  of  its  normal  recurrences- 
places,  we  shall  be  unable  to  swing-back,  or  recur  to  it  with 
the  requisite  accuracy  at  the  end  of  such  Rubato.1 

No  modern  music  is  at  all  tolerable  without  the  proper 
application  of  Rubato  —  and  much  of  it.  To  hear  a  Chopin 
Nocturne  for  instance,  or  a  more  modern  work,  played  with- 
out Time-inflections  is  indeed  (for  anyone  at  all  sensitive, 
musically)  a  horrible  experience.  Let  me  give  you  a  taste  of 
this,  and  show  you  what  the  absence  of  Rubato  really  signifies. 
I  will  play  a  few  bars  from  Chopin's  F  minor  Nocturne,  first 
without  the  proper  Rubato  and  then  with  it : 

Example  26a. 


P  senza  Rubato 
Example  266. 


Rubato 


(acccl 


ttmfO 


1  Rubato,  in  fact,  demands  a  Pulse-sense  so  strong  and  full  of  vitality, 
that  it  will  enable  us  to  feel  a  pulse  (or  Beat)  unwaveringly,  although  its 
rhythmical  recurrences  may  be  so  slow  (or  deferred)  as  to  cover  a  whole 
phrase  at  a  time  —  nay,  sometimes  half-a-page  or  a  whole  page  of  Piano 
music. 


THE   ELEMENT  OP   RUBATO  65 

But  while  it  is  clear  enough  that  modern  music  is  quite  *»*»<©  in 
impossible  without  Rubato,  we  shall  find  that  most  of  the         nmste. 
older  music  also  requires  it  in  a  measure  —  although  very 
subtly  applied.  Beethoven  requires  it  less  than 

the  other  older  great  Masters,  but  even  with  him  it  is  not 
totally  absent.  Bach  certainly  admits  it  in  a  measure,  and 
Mozart  obviously  needs  it  quite  markedly,  although  subtly 
applied.  We  know  from  Mozart's  own  letters  that  he  used 
it  greatly,  and  much  to  the  astonishment,  mystification, 
and  probable  confusion  of  his  contemporaries. 

This  leads  me  to  a  digression.     I  must  protest  against  Fallacy/* 
the  tendency  amongst  some  to  imagine  that  because  a  great  **^j* . 
Master  lived  so  many  years  ago,  because  his  body  has  long  ^  tmemo- 
been  dead  and  buried,  his  music  must  also  be  in  a  sense  dead  tionaL 
—  unemotional,  un-alive  and  passionless.      Could  there  be 
a  more  fatuitous  mistake!    Surely,  all  these  great  Masters 
were  pulsating,  living  beings,  at  least  quite  as  alive  and 
fervent  as  we  are,  as  emotional,  as  full  of  passion,  as  full 
of  strong  feeling  and  thought  as  the  best  of  us  to-day,  and 
probably  far  more  so!    Indeed,  is  it  not  evident,  that  it  is 
just  because  they  had  such  phenomenal  Enthusiasm  for  their 
art,  because  they  had  such  phenomenal  feeling  and  vitality 
— and  reasoning  power — that  they  were  able  to  give  us  such 
masterpieces?  Then  again,  the  records  we  have  of 

their  playing,  are  they  records  of  Mendelssohnian  cold  glitter? 
Do  we  not  read  just  the  contrary?  Yet  it  is  pretended 
by  some,  to-day,  that  it  is  not  "classical"  to  put  any  human 
emotion  into  Beethoven  or  Bach!  .  .  .  Indeed,  there  are 
some  signs  lately  that  Chopin  —  of  all  people  —  is  soon  to  be 
relegated  to  the  realm  of  the  cold  and  dead — and  "classic. " l 

1  But  what  a  misunderstanding  of  a  term!  Should  not  "classical" 
signify  that  perfect  balance  of  the  emotional  and  the  intellectual  which  is 
the  very  foundation  of  all  true  art?  There  is  no  such  "balance"  if  we 
delete  the  emotional. 


66 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


in  giving  Now,  please  do  not  misunderstand  me  to  maintain  that 

emotional      Beethoven  and  Bach  are  to  be  treated  in  the  manner  of 

life,  shape       ~ 

must  not  be  Schumann,  Brahms,  Chopin  and  Debussy!  It  is  true,  indeed, 
lost  sight  of.  that  the  more  shapely,  the  more  architectural  the  music, 
the  less  ornately  may  it  be  treated.  To  smudge  over  the 
majestic  arches,  columns  and  domes  of  a  really  fine  cathedral 
with  tinselly  colors  and  gew-gaws,  is  of  course  nothing 
short  of  a  crime.  But  do  not  let  us  pretend  that  we  can 
see  the  cathedral  without  light  —  without  the  strong  shadows 
and  colors,  and  mysteries  —  and  rhythm  —  which  light 
brings  with  it!  As  I  have  already  said,  in  playing  great 
works,  works  continuous  and  large  in  their  construction, 
such  as  are  Beethoven's,  we  must  often  restrain  the  im- 
pulse to  color  each  detail  too  strongly,  lest  we  lose  sight 
of  the  larger  shapes  of  the  piece,  its  general  feeling  and 
the  majestic  progression  of  its  great  proportions.  We  must 
play  Beethoven  not  sentimentally,  but  we  must  play  him 
with  sentiment  —  with  strong  feeling,  and  dramatically. 
Let  me  play  you  a  few  bars  of  the  "Waldstein"  Sonata  as 
I  have  heard  them  abused,  and  then  with  the  correction  of 
this  mawkishness.1  Thus:  (a)  with  Rubato  —  incorrect; 
(b)  almost  without  Rubato  —  correct. 

Example  27. 


iv-^v—  senza  Rubato 


1  In  these  Rubato  examples  the  — <aAAA/VV~  sign  is  sometimes  used  for 
time-inflection  (analogously  to  the  tone-inflection  sign  — =  ==— ).  Where 
the  sign  swells  out  the  time  broadens  out.  At  other  times  a  curve  below 
or  above  a  horizontal  line  is  employed  to  denote  the  Rubato. 


THE   ELEMENT   OF   RUBATO  67 

Seeing  then  the  exceeding  importance  of  Rubato,  it  be-  When  to 
hooves  us  to  teach  it  as  soon  as  practicable  —  even  to  the  *each  *■* 

.  .        learn 

child.  It  should  be  taught  as  early  as  possible:  first,  be- Rubat0> 
cause  a  rhythmical  sense  can  be  acquired  with  comparative 
ease  while  young;  and  secondly,  because  of  the  extreme 
importance  of  Rubato  in  all  modern  music.  And,  of  course, 
the  child  must  begin  its  musical  experiences  with  music  of 
to-day  and  not  of  yesterday,  for  the  average  child  cannot 
easily  learn  to  think  in  a  past  idiom  until  it  has  had  consid- 
erable experience  of  present  day  music.1 

1  This  does  not  mean  that  we  should  feed  his  young  mind  on  Freak-  The  problem 
music,  or  on  Flimsiness.  Yet  there  is  no  greater  mistake  than  to  imagine  of  music  for 
that  because  music  itself  has  appeared  in  a  certain  order  of  evolvement,  children, 
therefore  it  must  be  brought  to  the  young  mind  in  a  similar  order;  and 
that  we  must,  therefore,  begin  with  the  most  difficult  and  complex  intel- 
lectually, the  most  subtle  emotionally,  and  the  most  wonderful  of  all  the 
great  Masters,  Bach  —  a  fine  topsy-turvydom  indeed!  I  must  confess, 
for  my  own  part,  that  I  have  still  not  entirely  overcome  my  repugnance 
to  and  prejudice  against  Milton's  "Paradise  Lost,"  which  was  rammed 
down  my  throat  long  before  it  could  be  possible  for  me  to  digest  it,  before 
I  could  hope  to  see  those  beauties  in  it  which  I  am  quite  prepared  to  believe 
may  be  there,  but  which  are  still  closed  from  my  vision  because  of  the 
folly  of  my  early  teachers.  Here,  also,  is  the  place  to  protest  against  the 
folly  of  giving  deadly-dull  and  unmusical  pieces  and  studies  to  children. 
How  can  the  child  learn  to  love  music  by  being  soaked  in  Non-music? 
Leagues  of  such  waste-material,  supposed  to  be  "easy,"  are  turned  out 
and  dumped  upon  the  market  as  "teaching  pieces"  by  the  publishers  — 
sheer  platitudes,  without  a  spark  of  invention  or  imagination  or  rhythmi- 
cal life,  saying  nothing  and  meaning  nothing,  and  such  stuff  is  supposed 
to  teach  Music  to  children!  No  wonder  so  many  look  upon  their  practice- 
hour  with  loathing!  This  crime  could  not  be  possible,  were  it  not  that 
the  average  would-be  teacher  seems  to  be  totally  wanting  in  musical 
judgment,  and  hence,  quite  fails  to  perceive  the  deadly-poisonous  nature 
of  this  commercial  shoddy -material.  For  with  a  little  trouble,  there  is 
plenty  of  real  music  obtainable  quite  within  the  ordinary  child's  grasp, 
and  therefore  stimulating  to  him  —  and  also  to  the  teacher;  hence,  there 


68  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

Almost  every  child  can  learn  perfectly  well  to  feel  pulse, 
to  feel  Time,  if  taught  on  the  right  lines  —  if  taught  from 
the  outset  to  see  (as  I  have  already  insisted)  that  music 
consists  of  progression  or  movement,  progression  or  move- 
ment as  regards  Tune,  progression  as  regards  Harmony, 

is  no  excuse  for  the  use  of  material  which  is  disheartening  to  and  paralysing 
in  its  influence  on  both. 

We  must  always  remember,  too,  that  the  child  is  more  likely  to  be  in 
tune  with  present-day  idiom  than  with  that  of  a  past  generation.  We 
have  masterpieces  for  children  written  by  such  natural  musicians  as 
Poldini,  and  other  foreign  successful  writers,  such  as  Jensen,  Godard, 
Ole  Olsen,  Theo.  Kullak,  Grieg,  etc.,  while  many  worthy  modern  British 
names  might  also  be  mentioned,  for  instance,  John  Kinross,  Felix  S win- 
stead,  Carlo  Albanesi,  Cuthbert  Nunn,  and  many  others.  Some  few 
exceptional  children  also  are  open  to  an  appeal  from  the  classics  (such  as 
Corelli,  Scarlatti,  Bach,  Haydn,  Mozart  and  Beethoven)  but  one  should 
be  sure  of  this,  before  immersing  them  in  an  idiom  far  removed  from  that 
natural  to  them. 

If,  however,  such  children  obviously  do  enjoy  the  older  classics,  there  is 
no  reason  why  they  should  not  be  allowed  to  become  familiar  with  some 
of  the  lighter  works,  or  such  a  truly  modern  work  as  the  Chromatic  Fan- 
tasia —  although,  of  course,  no  child  can  possibly  fully  realize  the  subtle 
feeling  of  such  "grown-up"  music. 

In  connection  with  all  this,  an  interesting  question  was  put  to  me  at 
one  of  my  lectures.  It  was  asked  "at  the  same  time  is  it  not  necessary 
that  music  of  the  earlier  writers  should  be  brought  before  children  as 
literature,  and  in  quantities  large  enough  to  leave  a  definite  impression 
of  each  great  composer's  characteristics?"  The  answer  is,  that  each 
case  must  be  taken  on  its  own  merits  —  what  is  poison  for  some  may  be 
meat  for  others.  But  no  music,  however  good,  should  be  forced  upon 
anyone  before  they  are  ready  to  enjoy  it;  else  we  always  risk  creating  a 
loathing  for  all  music,  instead  of  a  love  for  it.  One  must  therefore  begin 
gradually  and  tentatively.  Give  the  children  music  which  they  can  enjoy 
(and  that  will  probably  be  quite  modern  in  feeling)  and  from  this  gradu- 
ally lead  them  to  perceive  that  which  is  in  an  idiom  more  difficult  for 
them,  an  older  idiom,  or  one  more  complex,  and  hence  more  difficult  to 
master.    Lead  always  from  the  simple  to  the  complex  in  idiom,  in  con- 


THE   ELEMENT   OF   RUBATO  69 

and  above  all  things,  progression  as  regards  Pulse  and 
Rhythm.  Obviously,  it  is  also  found  quite  easy  for  the 
child  to  take  the  next  step,  and  to  learn  to  divide  these 
Pulses  up  into  all  kinds  of  details  —  always  remember,  de- 
tails of  progression.  Now,  if  the  child  can  learn  to  do  all 
this  —  and  can  learn  to  feel  portions  of  time  less  than  the 
Pulse,  surely,  it  is  only  one  step  further  for  the  child  to 
learn  accurately  to  notice  the  recurrence  of  more  widely 
distributed  beats  or  pulses  —  those  recurring  at  wider 
intervals,  while  omitting  for  the  moment  any  reference  to 
the  in-between  beats  —  as  required  in  Rubato. 

struction,  and  in  feeling;  lead  from  the  idiom  of  to-day  to  an  under- 
standing of  that  of  yesterday.  Of  course  we  find  exceptional  cases,  as  I 
have  said  before,  of  little  geniuses  of  nine  or  ten  who  are  quite  prepared 
to  love  Bach  and  ready  to  see  much  of  its  true  feeling. 

As  to  trying  to  teach  children  the  "characteristics"  of  the  various  great 
composers,  is  this  not  somewhat  on  a  par  with  teaching  the  events  of  His- 
tory to  children,  and  expecting  them  to  learn  the  lessons  and  draw  the 
conclusions  therefrom,  conclusions  which  history  may  possibly  teach  to 
a  few  of  their  elders,  provided  such  historical  successions  of  events  are 
analysed  so  as  to  lay  bare  the  evolution  of  the  race,  of  institutions,  of 
ideas,  etc? 

Is  it  not  premature  to  try  to  make  mere  children  realize  the  "distinctive 
characteristics  of  style"  say  between  a  Shelley  and  a  Browning,  a  Shakes- 
peare and  a  Milton,  a  Swinburne  and  a  Rosetti  ?  Besides,  where  is  the  harm 
if  they  do  not  so  distinguish  for  a  time?  The  main  thing  is  to  teach  them 
to  enjoy  and  love  Music.  As  to  the  teacher,  that  is  another  matter,  the 
various  composers  demand  differences  of  treatment,  hence,  the  teacher 
must  understand  such  distinctions. 


70 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


The  two  dis- 
tinct funda- 
mental forms 
of  Rubato: 
(I)  the 
11  Leaning 
Rubato." 


Rubato  gives 
the  strongest 
form  of 
emphasis. 


To  come  to  details:  to  begin  with,  we  must  notice  that 
Rubato  can  take  two  quite  distinct  forms.  The  most  usual 
is  that  in  which  we  emphasize  a  note  (or  a  number  of  notes) 
by  giving  more  than  the  expected  Time-value,  and  then 
subsequently  make-up  the  time  thus  lost  by  accelerating 
the  remaining  notes  of  that  phrase  or  idea  so  as  to  enable 
us  accurately  to  return  to  the  pulse.  This  return  to  the 
pulse  must  always  occur  at  the  most  important  point  or 
note  of  the  phrase  —  that  is,  near  its  end.  Remember, 
this  law  is  inexorable,  we  must  always  look  ahead,  and 
come  boxk  to  the  pulse  at  the  chief  syllable  of  the  phrase, 
however  much  we  may  have  swerved  from  it  beforehand. 
Indeed,  the  very  fact  of  our  returning  to  the  main  pulse 
after  having  swerved  from  it  forms  the  strongest  means  of 
emphasis  we  can  give  to  any  note. 

For  instance: 
Example  28a.  (Nocturne  in  F  sharp  —  Chopin.1) 


Rubato 


or:       W1^1/|JV-^ 


<?: 


1  Here  we  have  a  double  Rubato:  the  main  Rubato  is  caused  by 
wavering  over  the  first  notes  of  the  phrase,  and  the  delay  thus  caused 
must  be  made  up  by  hurrying  over  the  first  two  quaver  C  sharps,  so  as  to 
bring  us  back  to  the  pulse  accurately  at  the  bar-line  —  the  chief  syllable 
of  the  phrase,  with  its  resolution  of  the  dominant  harmony  of  the  previous 
bar;  and  a  smaller,  subsidiary  Rubato  then  prevents  the  subsequent 
demisemiquavers  (32nd  notes)  from  appearing  square  —  this  subsidiary 
rubato  being  in  the  form  of  a  slight  lingering  over  the  first  C  sharp  of  that 
bar,  while  the  time  is  again  made  up  by  a  corresponding  acceleration  of 
these  demisemiquavers  towards  the  final  note  of  the  phrase,  which  thus 
forms  an  unaccented  (or  "feminine")  phrase-ending.  Played  any  other 
way,  the  phrase  would  prove  totally  unmusical.  Both  time-swerves 
(even  the  first  one)  are  here  most  delicate  and  minute. 


THE    ELEMENT    OF    RUBATO 


71 


In  the  opposite  form  of  Rubato  (it  might  be  termed  (n)  the 
inverted  rubato)  we  begin  with  a  pushing-on  or  hurrying  the  "  Push-°n  " 
time.  This  we  must  necessarily  follow  up  by  retarding  the 
subsequent  notes  of  the  phrase.  This  retard  serves  (like 
the  corresponding  swing-back  of  the  first  form  of  Rubato) 
to  bring  us  back  again,  at  the  phrase-climax,  into  unison, 
with  our  Pulse.  And  this  phrase-climax,  I  would  remind 
you,  is  near  the  end  of  the  phrase.    See  Exp.  285,  and  pp. 

36  —  41,  70,  73. 

"Valse  noble"  from  Carnival,  Schumann.1 
Example  286. 


^j\\as*~~  focoaaxl. 


Moreover,  these  two  forms  of  Rubato  may  be  combined 
even  in  a  single  phrase.  In  fact,  such  compound  Rubato  is 
far  more  usual  than  the  simple  uncombined  variety. 

1  Here  it  is  well  to  point  out  that  we  must  not  allow  ourselves  to 
be  misled  by  the  inaccurate  markings  found  in  the  texts  of  editors  and 
of  the  composers  themselves.  Chopin,  Schumann  and  Brahms,  for 
instance,  are  constantly  found  to  have  marked  Ritardos,  when  they  have 
really  meant  the  Rubato  swinging-back  of  a  rhythm  after  a  preceding 
(but  unmarked)  accellerando;  and  vice  versa,  they  have  often  marked 
accellerandos  when  they  have  failed  to  note  the  preceding  causal  ritardos. 
The  simple  explanation  is  that  they  have  failed  properly  to  diagnose  the 
means  of  performance  actually  required  for  their  own  music! 

Schumann,  in  his  first  Nachtstuck,  for  instance,  could  not  have  meant 
a  constant  breaking  up  of  the  piece!  No  doubt  in  his  own  playing  of 
it,  he  had  noticed  certain  places  where  ritardos  apparently  occurred  and 
he  promptly  noted  these  down.  But  he  had  failed  to  notice  the  preced- 
ing accelerandos,  which  are  the  cause  of  the  swerve  and  balance  in  the 
Time-pulses,  and  which  enable  the  piece  to  be  perfectly  continuous,  while 
allowing  a  full  portrayal  of  its  agitated  feeling. 


The  two 
Rubato 
forms  may 
be  combined. 

Ritardos  and 
Accelleran- 
dos in  text, 
often  found 
to  be  incor- 
rectly noted 
Rubatos. 


72  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

The  exact  Another  noteworthy  point  is,  that  in  teaching  Rubato, 
th^^him  ^e  only  thing  we  can  determine  with  exactitude  is  the  posi- 
to  the  pulse  ^on  °f  the  return  to  the  pulse;  for  the  actual  extent  of  a 
must  he  rubato-curve  may,  and  should  vary  with  the  mood  of  the 
noted.  performer,  just  as  in  the  case  of  the  analogous  tone-curves. 

The  actual  nature  of  the  curve  itself  is  also  thus  variable; 
but  not  so  the  return  to  the  pulse  —  that  always  has  a  defi- 
nite and  invariable  position  for  each  phrase. 
The  cause  of     "We  should  also,  in  every  case,  note  the  cause  of  each 
,e  [frr0    Rubato,  the  place  where   the  Rubato  is  begun;    that  is, 
noted.  whether  the  Rubato  is  caused  (in  the  earlier  part  of  the 

phrase)  by  a  "leaning"  emphasis  or  retardation,  or  by  a 
"push-on"  or  hurrying  of  the  time,  or  whether  the  two 
kinds  of  Rubato  are  combined  in  the  phrase  under  consid- 
eration. 

Moreover,   the  actual  extent  of  a  Rubato-curve  varies 

greatly,   since  we  may  use  a  Rubato  to  emphasize  a  single 

note  only,  or  we  may  use  it  to  give  a  graceful  curve  to  a 

whole  phrase  as  in  so  many  of  Chopin's  works,  for  instance 

his  Berceuse,  C  minor  Nocturne,  etc.,  or  even  to  a  whole 

section  of  a  movement  as  elsewhere  in  Chopin,  for  instance 

in  his  F  minor  Ballade,  Fantasie-Polonaise,  etc. 

Rubato  Rubato,  in  fact,  will  enable  us  to  make  clear  the  climax 

allows  a        0£  a  pipage  even  with  a  decrescendo  progression  towards  its 

climax  to  be  climax;  for,  as  already  pointed  out,  it  is  a  most  striking  fact, 


shown  in       that  the  return  to  the  pulse  (after  having  swerved  away 
decrescendo.  f rom  ft)  f  forms  the  most  potent  kind  of  emphasis  we  can 

give  to  any  note.1 

In  speaking  of  a  Phrase-climax,  it  is  of  course  understood 

that  this  invariably  occurs  either  at  or  near  the  end  of  the 

1  Strictly  speaking,  there  can  be  no  Rubato  "on  one  note";  but  we 
may  draw  attention  to  a  single  note  by  employing  a  Rubato  before  or 
after  it.    See  note,  page  74. 


THE   ELEMENT    OF    RUBATO 


73 


phrase.    This  may  seem  unnecessary  reiteration  after  what  Fallacy 
I  have  shown  to  be  the  nature  of  a  phrase —  its  consisting  reg^din« 
always  of  a  progression  of  notes  leading  up  to  a,  cadence,  but  pm-ase- 
I  have  found  it  gravely  and  deliberately  mis-stated  in  some  climax, 
"instruction"  books,  that  the  accent  of  a  phrase  "is  always 
at  its   beginning"  —  than  which   there  could  not  well  be 
anything  further  from  the  truth,  musically!    Possibly  this 
mistake  has  arisen  from  the  fact  that  the  first  note  of  a  Attack  of 
phrase  does  sometimes  require  a  slight  accent,  to  give  the  p 
effect  of  "good  attack."     Such  slight  accents  are,  of  course, 
in  the  nature  of  "cross  accents,"  since  they  go  against  the 
feeling  of  the  straight-on  progression.     They  are  required 
especially  where  the  phrases  and  motives,  etc.,  commence 
against  the  grain  (as  it  were)  of  the  music,  as  so  often  found 
in  Bach,  and  the  older  Masters.     Thus: 

Example  29. 


But  always  bear  in  mind,  no  amount  of  such  "attack" 
on  a  first  note  must  be  allowed  to  mar  or  weaken  the  sense 
of  progression  of  the  phrase  towards  its  climax  or  crisis.1 

1  Most  of  the  music-material  of  the  old  Masters  commences  on  an 
unaccented  portion  of  the  rhythm.  This  rule  often  holds  good  even  in 
the  case  of  apparent  exceptions.  For  instance,  the  Fugue  from  Bach's 
Chromatic  Fantasia  starts  on  a  bar-line  so  far  as  eye-appearances  are  con- 
cerned. It  is  written  in  f  time,  but  the  theme  is  truly  in  J  time,  and  starts 
with  a  half-bar  of  this  time;  hence  there  is  here  no  exception  after  all. 


74 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Various 
forms  of 
Rubato 
illustrated: 
(I)  The  more 
usual  or 
11  leaning  M 
Rubato. 


All  means  of 
expression 
must  always 
be  applied 
solely  to 
express 
music. 


We  will  now  take  some,  illustrations  of  these  various  forms 
of  Rubato.  First,  we  will  take  the  single  note  emphasis, 
and  as  so  many  people  imagine  Bach  to  be  Rubato-less,  let 
us  take  his  prelude  in  F  sharp.  The  Rubato  is  here  very 
slight  indeed.  Probably,  if  I  did  not  point  it  out,  you 
would  not  notice  its  influence  —  but  then,  Rubato-inflections 
should  never  be  applied  so  disproportionately  as  to  become 
noticeable  as  such.1 

The  fact  is,  that  no  means  of  expression  (whatever  their 
nature)  must  ever  be  allowed  to  force  themselves  upon  the 
attention.  They  must  never  be  applied  so  coarsely  as  to 
become  obvious  as  such  to  the  listener.2  I  will  now  play  the 
first  bars  of  this  Prelude,  first  with  these  so  very  necessary 
(although  slight)  rubato-inflections,  and  then  without  them, 
and  you  will  realize  how  dismal  and  unmusically  stiff  the 
effect  is  without  Rubato  —  although  it  is  Bach! 

The  lecturer  here  played  the  first  bars  of  Bach's  Prelude  in  F  sharp, 
with  the  proper  (very  slight)  Time-leanings  on  the  tied  notes,  thus: 

Example  30. 

Conmoto   (Jfl) 


1  Some  even  object  that  slight  Rvbatos,  such  as  here  in  question  "are 
not  Rubato  at  all,  but  are  merely  a  'leaning'  on  a  note";  these  quite  for- 
get that  unless  every  such  leaning  is  rectified  elsewhere  in  that  phrase,  it 
must  inevitably  imply  a  playing  out  of  time.  Every  such  leaning,  there- 
fore, necessarily  implies  a  true  Rubato,  although  of  very  slight  extent.  See 
note,  page  72. 

1  See  pages  79  and  120-1,  and  Section  VI. 


THE   ELEMENT   OP   RTJBAT0 


75 


He  then  played  the  same  bars  without  these  inflections,  showing  how 
"wooden"  the  effect  is  without  them. 

Here  it  is  well  to  call  your  attention  to  another  matter,  Tone- 
although  it  forms  a  digression  from  that  upon  which  we  are  Mn?unt 
immediately  engaged.     Notice  that  the  tone-amount  itself  note-length 
must  also  vary  with  the  varying  lengths  of  the  notes  in  such  in  uneven 
a  passage.    To  be  more  explicit:  passages. 

When  you  play  such  a  passage  as  we  have  just  had, 
a  passage  consisting  of  notes  differing  as  to  their  time- 
size  —  notes  of  various  lengths  —  not  only  is  it  neces- 
sary to  treat  it  as  we  have  done  (giving  slightly  longer 
time  to  the  longer  notes,  and  slightly  shorter  time  to 
the  shorter  notes  than  is  their  due  according  to  the 
written  text)  but  we  must  also  apply  the  tone-inflec- 
tions in  the  same  way  —  the  shorter  notes  must  be 
somewhat  shorn  of  their  tone.  In  this  way  we  shall 
more  nearly  approximate  the  general  effect  to  that  of 
a  sustaining  instrument.1 

1  For  we  find,  with  a  sustaining  instrument,  such  as  the  Voice  or 
Violin,  etc.,  that  the  longer  notes  are  bound  to  impress  themselves  upon 
the  ear  far  more  than  do  the  shorter  ones,  since  the  full  volume  of  tone 
may  continue  throughout  the  duration  of  the  note  on  such  instruments, 
whereas  with  the  Pianoforte  the  beginning  of  a  note  necessarily  forms 
a  far  stronger  effect  than  does  the  remnant  of  tone  which  we,  as  pianists, 
imagine  to  be  a  "sustaining"  of  the  note  —  for  even  with  the  best  carry- 
ing, singing-touch  quality,  there  remains  always  a  certain  amount  of  percus- 
sion in  every  Piano-sound.     See  also  page  110  on  Phrase-continuations- 


76 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


In  a  slow 
movement, 
the  tone  for 
the  quicker 
notes  is 
reduced 
from  a  high 
background. 


Now,  in  a  slow  movement,  these  tone-variations  should 
be  thought  of  as  being  (for  the  quicker  notes)  a  cutting  away 
of  the  tone  from  the  general  tone-level,  as  in  the  Bach 
excerpt  just  given.  That  is,  the  main  body  of  the  passage 
here  requires  a  considerably  high  volume  of  singing-tone, 
but  we  must  relax  from  this  normally  high  tone-level  where- 
ever  the  shorter  notes  occur.  Listen  to  this  Bach-passage 
once  again,  and  observe  now  the  process  —  the  mechanism  — 
of  making  a  passage  sound  un-mechanical.  I  will  play  it 
slower,  so  that  you  may  observe  it  better: 


(The  lecturer  here  repeated  Exp.  No.  30,  pointing  out  the  tone-inflec- 
tions he  used,  all  being  of  course  quite  minute  inflections.) 

To  prove  the  case,  hear  it  once  again,  given  with  all 
the  notes  of  same  tone  value,  and  notice  how  ugly  this 
sounds: 


In  a  quick 
movement 
the  reverse 
applies. 


(The  lecturer  here  once  again  played  the  bars  in  question,  but  with- 
out tone-inflections,  after  which  he  repeated  them  with  the  proper 
rendering.) 

In  a  quick  movement  we  have  to  do  just  the  opposite. 
Here,  instead  of  thinking  the  passage  as  of  a  large  tone-level 
and  cutting  away  (or  lowering)  the  tone  for  the  unimportant 
and  quicker  notes,  we  must  proceed  on  a  much  lighter  foun- 
dation, and  must,  in  such  quicker  passages,  add  tone  to  this 
normally  low  tone-level  wherever  the  accented  notes  occur; 
for  instance  the  following,  from  Beethoven's  "  Waldstein  " 
Sonata.     (See  Exp.  31,  next  page): 


(The  lecturer  first  played  Exp.  31  with  the  requisite  accentuation,  then 
played  it  with  its  soft  foundation  touch  only,  then  again  with  the  proper 
accents  added  to  this  basis.  He  also  gave  as  an  example  a  few  bars  from 
his  own  Concert-study,  "Bravura.")    See  Exp.  32,  page  78. 


THE    ELEMENT    OF    RUBATO  77 

Example  31.  (From  Beethoven's  "  Waldstein  "  Sonata.) 


Further 
examples  of 
"  leaning  " 

Rubato. 


78 


Example  32. 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

(From  "Bravura,"  —  Tobias  Matihay}) 
*      1 


Here  again,  the  accents  are  superimposed  upon  a  light  foundation. 

But  let  us  come  back  to  our  Rvbato  illustrations: 

We  had  an  example  from  Bach,  let  us  now  take  one  from 
Beethoven.  The  first  subject  from  the  last  movement  of 
the  "Waldstein"  Sonata  will  serve  quite  well,  although 
the  required  Rubato  is  here  quite  slight  and  subtle.  The 
beginning  of  the  phrase  here  requires  emphasis  towards  the 
second  of  the  two  Gs,  while  the  further  progress  of  the  phrase 
towards  its  little  climax  must  nevertheless  be  made  clear. 
Now  we  should  destroy  the  suave  character  of  the  tune,  if 
we  tried  to  show  both  of  these  points  purely  by  tone  em- 
phasis.   This  would  make  it  sound  rough  and  raw,  thus: 

Example  33a. 
drtce 


Hence  we  are  compelled  to  resort  to  a  slight  —  a  very  slight — 
Rubato.  We  must  give  a  very  slight  Time-leaning  towards 
and  upon  the  second  of  the  two  Gs,  and  the  extra  time  thus 
spent  we  must  make  up  during  the  next  three  melody  notes, 
so  that  we  may  regain  the  pulse  precisely  on  the  C  —  the 
climax-note  of  the  motif.  Our  return  to  the  pulse  at  this 
point  will  sufficiently  emphasize  it  without  any  undue  tonal 
1  By  permission  of  Messrs.  Ricordi. 


THE   ELEMENT   OP   RUBATO 


79 


emphasis;  and  it  will  incidentally  also  connect  the  two  short 
strains  into  one  eight-bar  phrase,  thus : 
Example  336. 


-^wvVWvw< 


-*wWVwy- 


For  a  Rubato  of  slightly  longer  extent  in  Bach  and  Beethoven 
let  us  take  the  second  subject  of  Bach's  Prelude  in  F  minor 
(from  the  "48"),  and  the  opening  of  the  Allegretto  from 
Beethoven's  "Moonlight"  Sonata.  I  will  first  play  these, 
trying  to  give  them  their  proper  feeling  without  the  use  of 
Rubato,  and  you  will  see  that  it  is  impossible.  I  will  then 
play  them  both  with  the  proper  Time-curves  (or  Rubato) 
and  you  will  see  how  the  phrases  at  once  leap  into  life : l 
Example  34. 


1  The  reader,  in  trying  to  carry  out  these  Rubato  and  Tone-inflections,  Rubato 
must  always  remember  that  they  are  to  be  extremely  slight  and  subtle,  inflections 
They  must  never  become  noticeable  as  such  except  to  the  analysing  ear.  must  always 
See  the  remarks  on  this  head  on  page  74.     Remember  Chopin's  illustra-  be  camed 
tion  to  his  pupil;  he  first  blew  gently  upon  the  candle  in  front  of  him,  ou  su    y* 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Example  of 

Rubato 

analysis. 

Two  bars  of 

Chopin's 

Ballade  in 

Aflat 


n      m      iv      j  n     m  •    IV'  i 

As  an  example  of  a  Rvbato  of  similar  character,  but  more 
marked,  let  us  consider  for  a  moment  the  opening  phrase  of 
Chopm's  Ballade  in  A  flat.  How  rarely,  indeed,  is  this 
phrase  given  sai/isfyingly,  or  convincingly,  even  by  the  best 
players,  except  by  sheer  accident!  This  uncertainty  as  to 
success  simply  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  required  Rubato 
has  not  been  properly  analysed  nor  understood.  It  is,  there- 
fore, worth  while  to  analyse  the  Rubato  here  required,  as  it 
affords  a  striking  instance  of  the  supreme  importance  of 
accurate  study  and  analysis  of  this  process. 

The  Rubato  in  question  occurs  within  the  first  two  bars, 
but  I  will  play  four  bars  to  give  the  phrase  completeness,  and 
will  first  play  it  without  any  vestige  of  Rubato,  and  then  with 
it,  thus: 

Example  36a. 

Allegretto 


and,  making  it  flicker,  remarked:   "See,  that  is  my  Rubato,"  he  then 
blew  the  candle  out,  adding :  "and  that  is  your  Rubato! "   See  note,  p.  99. 


THE    ELEMENT    OF    RUBATO 


81 


The  Time-signature  f  is  misleading,  it  should  really  have 
been  notated  as  *f-;  and  the  piece,  therefore,  begins  with  a 
half-bax  of  this  -j-  time.  The  structure  of  the  phrase  is  a 
swing  towards  the  tonic  chord;  the  opening  E  flat  is  there- 
fore not  a  down-beat  (as  it  looks  in  the  original)  but  is  an 
up-beat  —  a  syncopation  in  fact;  and  as  such  it  requires 
considerable  tone  and  time-emphasis.  This  time-leaning 
on  the  opening  E  flat  is  the  cause  of  the  Rubato,  and  we  are 
compelled  to  hasten-  the  remaining  quavers  (eighth-notes) 
of  that  bar,  so  that  we  may  swing  back  to  the  Pulse  at  the 
crisis  of  the  phrase  —  the  A-flat  chord  at  the  true  bar-line.1 
In  this  way  we  are  able  to  draw  attention  to  it  without 
undue  tonal  emphasis,  while  yet  rendering  clear  the  true 
rhythmical  swing.  This  chief  point  of  the  phrase  is  fol- 
lowed by  a  "feminine"  ending,  and  here  again  a  very  slight 
Rubato  assists  its  rhythmical  swing;  and  thus,  you  see,  we 
really  have  a  double  Rubato  in  this  simple  little  phrase. 
Here  is  another  similar  Rubato,  from  the  same  work: 


Example  366. 


-MUfuyuw^- — 


And  here  is  yet  another  such  "leaning"  rubato,  but  in  a 
quicker  movement: 


1  The  true  bar-lines  are  here  marked  bolder  than  the  false  ones. 


82 


Example  36c. 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

(From  "Elves"  —  Tobias  MaUhay}) 


For  a  somewhat  more  extended  Rubato  —  a  whole  four-bar 
phrase  with  a  time-swell  in  the  middle  of  it  —  let  us  take 
Schumann 's  "  Traumerei ' ' : 


Example  37. 


Rubato  — W/\Aa^-  — -aV\/\/Wv' 


Remember,  such  Time-curves  must  only  be  gentle  wavelets,  they  must 
not  be  in  the  nature  of  earthquakes!    See  Note  to  Exp.  34,  page  79. 


Example  of 
Rubato 
showing 
trend  of 
phrase  in 
spite  of  a 
dim. 


To  show  you  now  how  a  Rubato  will  enable  us  to  make 
clear  a  phrase-climax,  or  a  main  bar-line  accent,  in  spite  of 
a  diminuendo,  I  will  quote  two  themes  from  Beethoven  and 
one  from  Chopin.     See  Exps.  38,  39  and  40: 

1  By  permission  of  Messrs.  Weekes  and  Co. 


THE   ELEMENT   OF   RUBATO 


83 


Example  38. 


Example  39. 


(From  Beethoven's  Op.  2,  in  C.1) 


(From  Beethoven's  Op.  31,  in  G.1) 


ill   (fj 

nf-1 — Tfi 

p~ 

nfct     v  - 

— • ! 

etc.  ; 

1 

- 

Example  40. 


(From  Chopin's  Valse  in  A  flat,  Op.  34.1) 


The  three-bar  rhythm  of  Chopin's  Andante  Sjrianato  shows  Example  of 
us  how  Rubato  can  make  a  phrase  clear,  in  spite  of  its  com-  Rubato 

•  showing 

mencing  with  a  cross-accent.    As  before,  I  will  first  play  cross-accent 
this  without  Rubato,  and  you  will  see  how  dead  and  stodgy 

1  Without  this  slight  Rubato  the  phrase-accent  cannot  be  shown  here, 
since  a  crescendo  towards  it  would  be  inappropriate;  whereas  its  position 
is  easily  made  clear  with  the  Rubato  swinging  back  to  it.  But  this 
Rubato  is  again  of  a  most  diaphanous,  gossamer  type.    See  pp.  99  and  79. 


84 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


it  remains;  I  will  then  add  the  proper  Rubato,  when  at  one© 
again,  the  phrase  becomes  alive  —  becomes  vivid.1 


Example  41. 


(From  Andante  Spianato  —  Chopin.) 


Again  die' 
importance 
of  scanning. 


Even  in  Beethoven  we  find  exemplified  this  tendency  to 
give  a  "leaning  accent"  (i.e.,  a  time  or  Rubato  emphasis) 
where  the  notes  of  a  melody  are  syncopated;  for  instance, 
take  the  second  part  of  the  first  subject  of  the  Sonata,  Op.  90. 
Here,  again,  you  will  realize  how  extremely  important  it 
is  always  to  scan  each  phrase  before  playing  it.  How  often, 
indeed,  is  the  beautiful  swing  of  this  melody  completely 
ruined,  simply  because  the  correct  rhythm  has  not  been  no- 
ticed.       Although  written  in  f  time,  it  is  really  in  £  time, 

1  Note  that  this  analysis  of  the  structure  of  the  phrase  proves  it  really 
to  be  in  I  time,  instead  of  the  1  originally  written.  The  phrase  begins 
with  a  cross-accent  (or  syncopation)  delivered  on  the  second  bar  of  such 
J  time,  and  the  true  phrase-climax  is  thus  thrown  on  to  the  first  of  the 
next  bar. 


THE   ELEMENT  OF   RUBATO 


85 


with  the  accent  always  on  the  alternate  (second)  one  of  the 
original  f  bar-lines. 

It  must  therefore  not  be  played  thus: 

Example  42a. 


ritard. 


(Wrong  Accentuation.) 
But  it  should  be  accented  thus: 

Example  42b. 


(Correct  Scanning.) 
Or,  in  place  of  such  rough  tone-accents,  it  is  still  better  to 
make  this  rhythm  clear  by  means  of  slight  rubatos;  finally 
thus :  — 
Example  42c. 


focoaccd. 
(The  proper  reading.) 


86* 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Rubato 
required  to 
depict 
agitation. 


Always 
shapeful, 
however 
veiled  the 
shapes. 


Here  is  a  still  longer  form  of  "leaning  accent." 

"Love-phases"  No.  3.— Tobias  Matthay.1 


wvWVVWvw*** acee^ 


This  leads  me  to  point  out  that  Rubato  is  most  of  all 
required  to  enhance  emotionally-agitated  strains.  Indefinite 
emotions,  such  as  persuasiveness,  longing,  yearning,  etc.,  all 
need  for  their  due  expression  much  "give"  and  curve  in 
their  Pulse-progression.2  An  effect  akin  to  fog,  haze  or 
"atmosphere"  is  thus  produced  on  the  ear;  for  the  details 
here  become  in  a  measure  veiled,  as  in  an  impressionist 
picture.  Much  of  Brahms,  Debussy,  etc.,  needs  such 
blurring  by  means  of  the  Time-swerve  —  and  also  by  means 
of  much  orer-pedalling  and  /ia(f-pedalling;  while  Chopin 
and  Schumann  are,  of  course,  quite  impossible  without  the 
constant  application  of  such  Time-swerves.3 

1  By  permission  of  Messrs.  Joseph  Williams. 

8  Or,  in  other  words,  the  elision  (or  omission)  of  the  closely-reiterated 
Pulse-throbs,  and  the  substitution  of  Pulse-throbs  recurring  at  far  longer 
intervals  of  time. 

3  Such  time-swerving,  however,  must  be  always  in  the  nature  of  true 
Rubato,  and  must  never  be  allowed  to  deteriorate  into  time-breaking 
and  rhythmical  chaos.  Granted,  that  veiled  shapes  are  beautiful,  some- 
times even  more  so  than  those  of  clear-cut  definition,  nevertheless  it  is 
the  presence  of  Shape,  however  veiled  it  may  be,  which  renders  them 
beautiful. 

The  cry  of  some  of  our  young  tentative  composers  that  Time  and  Key 


THE   ELEMENT   OF   RUBATO  87 

On  the  other  hand,  when  we  do  wish  to  express  Definite-  Definiteness, 
ness  or  Decision  in  Music,  such  as  we  find  in  all  music  which    eclsion»best 

......  .  expressed 

is  the  expression  of  sheer  vitality,  aggressiveness,  etc.,  then  without 
we  must  make  each  detail  as  clear  as  a  sunlit  day.     For  the  Rubato  in- 
portrayal  of  such  feelings  we  must  avoid  Rubato  so  far  as  flections- 
possible;  and  thus  it  happens  that  the  music  of  Beethoven, 
with  its  appeal  to  all  that  is  vital  and  fresh,  and  clean  in 
life,  and  great  in  the  Universe,  for  the  most  part  demands 
almost  the  suppression  of  this  far-reaching  element,  Rubato, 
except  in  the  quite  subservient  and  minute  fashion  already 
indicated,  and  except  in  the  slow  movements  of  his  later 
Sonatas,  where  the  feeling  approximates  so  much  more  than 
in  his  earlier  works  to  the  intimate  and  immediate  expres- 
sion of  self-mood  —  a  characteristic  of  the  so-called  roman- 
tic school. 

To  make  these  points  of  contrast  clearer,  let  me  give  you,  Illustrations 
as  an  example  of  the  first  kind,  the  wonderful  tune  from  °  1.es* 

r  '  distinctions 

Chopin's  Scherzo  in  B  flat  minor,  with  its  feelings  of  wild  emotionally, 
longing.  Without  Rubato  it  would  be  impossible  to  make 
this  rhythm  clear  —  for  this  tune  commences  with  a  rising 
inflection,  or  cross  accent.  Instead  of  the  written  f  time, 
this  movement  is  really  in  -42-  time;  and  the  tune  corn- 
are  merely  "the  remnants  of  an  old,  exploded  Scholasticism",  of  course 
merely  proves  that  they  have  failed  to  grasp  the  facts  which  form  the 
very  basis  of  all  musical  art.  Debussy  himself,  however,  the  strongest 
exponent  of  this  new  modernism,  whose  mannerisms  they  all  try  to  imitate, 
has  nevertheless  a  very  fine  sense  both  of  Rhythm  and  of  Key-relation- 
ship, although  he  purposely  and  skilfully  veils  both  in  favor  of  the  exigen- 
cies of  expression  required  by  his  musical  individuality. 

Another  reason  for  the  application  of  Rubato  in  such  extremely  emo- 
tional music  may  perhaps  be  found  in  the  fact  that  agitation  causes  our 
heart-beats  to  vary  —  causes  acceleration  in  the  heart's  action ;  and  it 
would  therefore  be  but  logical  to  swerve  and  hasten  our  musical  Pulse- 
beats  when  we  wish  to  convey  to  the  listener  a  sense  of  agitation. 


88 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


mences  at  the  half  bar  of  this  compound-quadruple  time, 
thus:  — 


Example  44. 


To  show  how  greatly  Rubato  does  help  us  in  such  a  case,  it 
is  well  to  play  through  the  whole  tune,  first  without  any 
vestige  of  time-inflections,  and  then  with  these  added, 
thus :  — 


Example  45. 


_  e  _   .  rando  . 


Now  let  us  contrast  the  wild  feeling  here  portrayed  Ly 
the  Time-swerve  with  an  example  from  Chopin,  where  he 
wishes  to  be  decisive,  one  might  say  almost  truculent  —  the 
first  subject  from  the  Scherzo  in  C  sharp  minor: 


THE    ELEMENT    OF    RUBATO 


89 


Example  46. 


accel...rit. 


ten.  ten. 
nonrvbato 

See  how  untrue  this  rings  if  it  is  played  with  wild  Rubatos, 
as  I  have  had  it  brought  to  me: 

(Illustrated) 

The  effect  of  the  absence  of  Rubato  here  is  heightened  by 
the  composer  introducing  this  subject  after  a  long  Recita- 
tive-like Introduction  of  an  exceedingly  free  nature. 

As  I  find  this  is  so  often  misplayed  and  strummed  through  Mis-scan- 
like a  badly  practised  exercise,  I  will  play  it  to  you  as  I  feel  *?*  ?f 
it  should  be  construed.     Notice  how  the  octave  A  in  the  scherzos 
final  Recit.  is  really  a  syncopation.1     See  Exp.  47 :  again. 

1  Apropos  of  this,  and  the  inaccurate  notation  and  phrasing  of  Chopin, 
M.  Peru  "the  only  surviving  pupil  of  Chopin"  in  an  interview  reprinted 
in  the  "Musical  Herald"  says:  "As  to  his  methods  of  composition,  they 
were,  contrary  to  popular  opinion,  most  laborious.  He  had  the  habit  of 
first  writing  down  his  ideas,  then  trying  over  what  he  had  written  at 
the  piano  and  correcting  it  over  and  over  until  hardly  a  note  of  the 
original  remained."  .  .  .  "When  asked  to  put  in  marks  of  expression 
he  put  them  in  carelessly,  never  playing  his  pieces  as  they  appeared 
in  print,  and  marking  a  pedal  at  the  beginning  of  each  bar  without  pay- 
ing the  least  attention  to  the  sense  of  the  music.  His  own  pedalling 
was  most  extraordinary.  His  foot  was  constantly  bobbing  up  and  down 
so  as  to  produce  the  effect  of  constant  pedal  but  also  constant  sharpness." 
.  .  .  "Chopin's  interpretation  of  his  own  music  was  never  twice  alike, 
yet  always  perfect.  He  played  with  very  sudden  and  sharp  nuances,  and 
frequent  changes  of  time.  As  to  what  we  call  'classical  interpretation/ 
that  had  no  meaning  for  him.  Everything  was  beauty,  and  even  a  fugue 
he  made  not  a  dry  exercise  but  a  thing  of  genuine  poetic  charm  ..." 
See  also  Notes,  pp.  39,  71,  and  Section  V,  Pedalling. 


90 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Example  47. 


VLff 


'r'°S    m.    *<-*£>   *™*°  Presto) 


THE    ELEMENT    OF    RUBATO 


91 


Curious  too,  and  unaccountable,  the  mis-scanning  of  the 
Chorale  later  on  in  this  work,  even  by  otherwise  capable 
musicians.  How  often  do  I  hear  it  played  upside  down, 
rhythmically!  (See  a,  Exp.  48.)  Instead  of,  as  it  should 
be,  see  b,  Exp.  48. 


Example  48. 


accentuation  p 


One  of  the  most  wonderful  Rubato  effects  is  found  in  the 
Chopin  Berceuse.  I  will  play  this  to  you,  and  you  will  see 
that  the  Rubato  here  often  extends  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end  of  each  two-bar  phrase,  sometimes  indeed  being  spread 
over  four  whole  bars,  and  thus  lengthening  two  short 
phrases  into  one  of  double  the  length.  Each  four-bar  phrase 
is  here  transformed  into  one  single  bar  —  one  single  com- 
plete pulsation,  or  Swing  of  Rhythm;  each  complete  phrase 
returning  to  the  straight  line  of  Pulse  or  Beat  only  once 


92 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


during  the  life  of  this  complete  phrase  —  at  its  rhythmical 
climax.1 

Notice  also,  that  while  the  right  hand  is  thus  at  liberty 
to  follow  the  player's  fancy  (but  always  strictly  within  the 
bounds  of  each  complete  phrase)  the  left  hand,  on  the  con- 
trary, in  the  meantime  keeps  almost  perfectly  straight  time 
all  through  the  piece  —  with  almost  accurate  reiterations  of 
the  three  beats  of  each  half  bar. 

(The  lecturer  here  played  Chopin's  Berceuse.) 

Illustrations  So  far,  these  examples  have  been  in  the  more  frequent 
of  Rubato  form  of  Rubato,  viz. :  that  beginning  with  an  extra  expendi- 
(II)  the  push-  ^ure  °f  time>  which  is  subsequently  balanced  by  an  acceller- 
on  or  in-  ando  back  to  the  beat  near  the  end  of  the  motif  or  phrase. 
We  will  now  take  some  examples  of  tTie  opposite,  or  "in- 
verted" form  of  Rubato,  wherein  we  commence  by  pushing- 
on  or  hastening  the  time,  and  subsequently  return  to  our 
true  pulse,  by  a  proportionate  slowing-up  or  retardation 
toward  the  end  of  the  phrase,  etc.  This  device  is  particu- 
larly required  where  Agitation  is  to  be  expressed.  See  Ex- 
amples 49  to  56 : 

From  Beethoven's,  Op.  31,  in  D  min. 
Example  49. 


verted 
Rubato 


P. A I 

(a)   This  sign  Jl.  denotes  a  "  half -pedalling  "  effect.     See  Section  V. 

1  Such  instances  of  long  Rubatos  —  and  longer  ones  —  abound  in  the 
works  of  Chopin  and  Schumann,  and  more  recent  writers. 


THE   ELEMENT  OF    RUBATO 


93 


Chopin's  Etude  in  E.1 


\  accet 


Example  51. 


Episode  from  Chopin's  Ballade  in  G  minor. 


1  The  dotted  bar-lines  here  are  Chopin's;  they  are  quite  misleading, 
and  the  proper  bar-lines  and  "scanning"  are  here  indicated  by  ordinary 
bar-lines. 


94 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


This  really  begins  with  a  half-bar  of  V  time. 


Chopin's  Nocturne  in  G  minor. 


or    rit.  .._._..  accel. 
(according  to  mood! J 


rit tempo. 


Example  53a. 


THE    ELEMENT   OF    RUBATO  95 

Second  subject  from  Schumann's  Sonata  in  G  minor. 


Rubato:  accel. 

or  even  thus:  accel, 


Example  536. 


Episode  from  the  last  movement  of  same  Sonata. 
atempo 


Rvhato:  rit.juxel..  jrit. 
or 

irit. 
accel 


*vV\AA*~" 


— vv«5Vvj 


etc. 


Nocturne  from  York  Bowen's  "Miniature  Suite,"  No.  I.1 
Example  54. 

cantando 


con  Ped. ^= 

1  By  permission  of  the  composer  (Avison  Edition). 


96 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


(Rubato:  accel. -lit, 


tempo) 


Chopin's  Mazurka  in  F  sharp  minor  (Op.  59). 


Rubato:    lit.  _.  accel.  poco  a  poco  _    __..._    rit. 
(Really  one  single  "pulse"  of  eight  J.s  in  duration  J 


.tempo 


Here  we  have  an  eight-bar  Rubato,  and  the  trio  of  the  same 
Mazurka  shows  us  how  two-bar  phrases,  or  motifs,  etc.,  can 
be  bound  together  into  one  four-bar  phrase,  thus: 


Example  556. 


THE    ELEMENT   OF    RUBATO 


97 


The  vertical  arrows  here  denote  the  only  places  where  the  written 
rhythm  really  coincides  with  the  played  "Time-spot"  —  all  the  remain- 
ing bars  and  beats  are  off  the  straight-on  line  of  beats. 

Another,  and  to  my  mind  very  striking  instance  of  this 
form  of  Rubato,  is  found  in  the  second  strain  of  the  second 
subject  of  Chopin's  Sonata  in  B  flat  minor.  The  whole  of 
these  eight  bars  should  be  played  without  any  recurrence 
to  the  straight-on  line  of  Pulse  till  the  resolution  of  this 
strain,  which  occurs  upon  the  first  note  of  the  repetition  of 
the  first  strain  of  the  subject,  at  the  forte;  thus: 

Example  56. 


■    agitato — poco  a  poco  un  pochettinb  accel  _    .  rit.  . 
f    dolce 


This  complete  sentence  consists  therefore  of  one  single  incomplete  long 
bar  of  ^  time,  finishing  at  /,  and  commencing  on  the  fifth  beat  of  this 

lonSbar-  Examples  of 

These  two  fundamental  forms  of  Rubato  are  also  often  the  com- 
found  in  close  combination,  but  the  rules  just  given  apply  bma^°no 

the  two 

with  equal  force ;    for  we  must  always  arrange  to  arrive  forms  ot 
"home"  upon  the  pulse  at  the  climax  of  the  phrase,  or  Rubato. 


98  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

section,  or  "motif"  as  the  case  may  be.  For  instance,  the 
first  strain  of  the  Episode  from  Chopin's  G  minor  Ballade, 
which  I  quoted  recently,  is  a  case  in  point,  for  it  really  needs 
such  a  combination  of  both  forms  of  Rubato  within  its 
short  life.     Refer  to  Exp.  51  on  page  93. 

Another  very  definite  and  yet  closely  condensed  example 
of  such  Compound-rubato,  within  the  compass  of  one  short 
phrase,  I  feel  in  the  opening  bars  of  Brahms'  Intermezzo  in 
E  flat  minor,  Op.  118.  To  enable  us  to  obtain  the  intensely 
poignant  effect  of  this  phrase,  we  begin  here  with  a  "leaning 
rubato,"  but  instead  of  completing  this  as  usual,  by  making 
a  corresponding  acceleration  straight  back  to  the  pulse  at 
the  climax  of  the  phrase,  we  must  here  push-on  the  time  so 
considerably  as  to  swing  back,  not  merely  to  the  true  pulse- 
line,  but  beyond  it,  and  thus  induce  a  well-marked  ritardo 
upon  the  last  two  or  three  notes  before  finally  regaining 
the  pulse  at  the  climax-note.  It  is  well  first  to  play  the 
phrase  through,  perfectly  non-rubato,  and  then  to  repeat 
it,  giving  the  required  Compound-rubato,  when  you  will 
realise  how  these  time-inflections  really  are  part  and  parcel 
of  the  musical  sense : 


Example  57a. 

Andante  largro  e  mesto 


THE    ELEMENT   OF    RUBATO 


99 


Again,  this  Rubato-curve  must  be  given  most  subtly  —  a  life-giving 
breath,  not  a  scenery-rocking  earthquake!  Do  not  try  to  express  the 
rvbato,  but  use  it  to  express  the  intense  feeling  concentrated  in  this 
phrase.    See  pages  74  Text,  and  79  Note. 

The  March-like  episode  (or  Trio)  of  this  Intermezzo, 
with  its  fatalistic  feeling,  forms  an  instructive  example  of 
sheer  emotional  effect  gained  by  the  absence  of  Rubato  in 
this  case,  for  this  strain  should  be  given  with  hardly  a 
vestige  of  Rubato ;  and  the  contrast  of  its  straightness  and 
squareness,  after  the  preceding  wild  Rubatos,  is  most  striking: 

Example  576. 

Non-  rubato  ^, 


As  another  very  instructive  example  of  Compound-rubato, 
let  me  play  you  a  few  bars  from  the  wonderful  Variations 
from  Benjamin  Dale's  Sonata  in  D  minor: 


minus: 
Rubato  curve 


1  By  permission  of  the  composer,  (Avison  Edition). 


100 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Here  we  have  a  "leaning"  Rubato  combined  with  a 
"push-on"  Rubato  in  one  single  phrase,  and  the  plus  time 
at  its  beginning  and  at  its  end  must  be  precisely  balanced 
by  the  minus  time  in  the  centre  of  the  phrase,  so  as  to  bring 
us  back  to  the  pulse  at  the  climax. 

As  further  examples  of  Compound-rubato,  here  are  three 
from  Schumann: 

From  Papillons  (No.  10). 
Example  59. 


Ritcn 


THE    ELEMENT   OF    RUBATO 


101 


temfo 


Example  60. 


non  rubatn 


From  Kinderscenen  ("Am  Kamin"). 


(Very  slight  rubatos  indeed  J 


Example  61. 


From  Kinderscenen  ("Fast  zu  ernst"). 


Rubato:  riten accel ritardo 


accel.  tempo 


Riten accel. 


ritardo T&np* 


102 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


And  here  is  one  from  Claude  Debussy  —  his  charming 
Valse,  "La  plus  que  lente:"1 


Example  62. 

Molto  rubato  con  morbidezxa 


"Laflusqua 
lente" 


Modem         Even  Beethoven  understood  the  value  of  a  true  modern 

Rubato  ex-     Rubato,  in  his  later  works.2 

Beethoven.         ^  examP^es  °f  this,  consider  the  following  two  passages 

from  his  Op.  110  and  Op.  Ill  respectively,  where  he  has 

tried  to  notate  such  true  Rubatos:  — 


Example  63. 


From  the  Adagio  of  Op.  110,  Beethoven. 


p  cantabile 


dim.   smora 
Meno  Adagio    Adagio 


PPP 


Splits, 
minus 


1  By  kind  permission  of  Durand  et  Cie.,  publishers  and  proprietors. 
*  So  did  Bach  —  one  has  only  to  realise  the  true  meaning,  for  instance, 
of  the  Recitatives  of  his  Chromatic  Fantasia! 


THE  ELEMENT  OP  RTJBATO  103 

From  first  movement  of  Op.  Ill,  Beethoven. 


Example  64. 

Tempo  I 


Agitato*  slightly  'push  on',  retard  back  to'Pulse 


From  here  a  huge  Rubato,  returning  perfectly  to  the  Pulse  .tine 

6  S_  A. 

Sass 


104 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Rubato  To  show  you  now,  how  a  Rubato  can  enable  us  to  show 

shows  accent  a  pUiSGj  or  accent,  even  in  the  absence  of  any  note  sounded 
tied  note        on  ^  Pu^sei  listen  to  the  second  subject  from  the  last  move- 
ment of  Schumann's  Concerto,  and  the  beginning  of  his 
"Des  Abends"  from  the  Phantasiestucke : 


Example  65. 


-wvV —                  ^-wVNa^" 
pocchettino  tit accrf—.J 


Example  66. 


Sehrinnigzu  sPielen 


un  pocchettino  4 

occel e ritardou 


Another  point,  self-evident  enough,  which  is  only  too  often 
overlooked  in  attempting  to  give  Rubato,  is,  that  Rubato 


Rubato  al- 
ways in  the 

curve  never  mus*  always  be  more  or  less  in  the  nature  of  a  curve  —  it 
a  time-spike,  must  be  applied  over  more  than  one  single  note.  Otherwise, 
in  place  of  a  beautifully  curved  effect  (the  very  purpose  of 
Rubato)  we  shall  have  time-spikes  (notes  actually  out  of 
time)  sticking  out  all  over  our  performance  —  spikes  just 
as  uncomfortable  as  physical  spikes.1    For  instance,  I  have 

1  See  Notes,  pp.  72  and  74. 


THE    ELEMENT   OF   RUBATO 


105 


heard  quite  a  good  artist-pupil  play  the  opening  phrase  of 
Chopin's  Nocturne  in  G  in  such  spike-rubato  fashion  in 
her  attempts  to  supply  the  something  felt  to  be  necessary. 
I  will  show  you  the  fault  and  its  correction:1 

Example  67. 

a)  Incorrect.'  f^JemPo.Mlo t7\ . tempo. Allo..f?\  tempo. . 


b)  Correct  Rubato 


To  make  such  a  mistake  seems  absurd  enough,  but  it 
really  was  a  most  honest  endeavor,  made  by  a  thoroughly 
earnest  and  in  many  ways  experienced  musician  and  teacher. 
It  arose  from  the  fact  that  she  had  not  been  allowed  to 
apply  Rubato  when  she  was  a  young  student,  and  could 
easily  have  learnt  its  true  application;  but  her  teachers 
had  discountenanced  such  supposed  frivolities  —  because 
they  knew  not  how  to  teach  Rubato. 

1  May  I  warn  the  reader  once  again  to  be  careful,  in  giving  the  Rubato-  Always  keep 
inflections  shown  in  these  examples,  to  render  them  all  subtly  —  not  as  miScid  our- 
gross,  noticeable  Ritardos  and  Accellerandos,  but  as  gentle  curves,  quite  pose,  during 
unnoticeable  as  such  except  to  the  earnestly  analysing  ear.    See  page  74  ?^?f  to"^n~ 
Text,  and  page  99  Note. 


106  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

Hence,  later  on,  when  her  natural  musical  feeling  prompted 
her  to  cut  herself  adrift  from  the  miserable  straight-laced- 
ness  of  her  schooling,  she  had  no  knowledge  or  experience 
to  guide  her.  All  I  had  to  do  in  her  case  was  to  make 

clear  the  process  really  required,  and  that  instead  of  a  pause 
on  the  first  note  alone,  a  soft  time-curve  was  required,  dis- 
tributed over  the  whole  bar;  and  immediately,  in  place  of 
her  previous  caricature  of  the  Nocturne  (or  "affected  read- 
ing" as  the  Music-critic  usually  characterises  any  fault  he 
is  unable  exactly  to  diagnose)  she  gave  me  the  passage  with 
due  expression  of  the  feeling  which  she  had  quite  well  per- 
ceived, but  which  she  had  been  unable  to  express  before, 
purely  owing  to  her  ignorance  of  the  required  process. 

Here  again,  the  moral  is,  that  everyone  should  be  taught 
while  still  young  enough  to  learn  things  easily,  and  should 
be  taught  everything  by  direct,  logical  explanation  of  the 
means  of  obtaining  correct  expression.  Only  too  often  is 
the  latent  feeling  and  perception  of  a  pupil  left  unexpressed, 
solely  owing  to  such  interpretative-technical  deficiencies  as 
we  have  just  discussed. 


SECTION  IV 

CONCERNING  CERTAIN  DETAILS  IN  THE  APPLICA- 
TION OF  TONE-INFLECTION  AND  THE  BEARING 
OF  TOUCH-TEACHING  AND  FINGERING,  ETC.,  ON 
INTERPRETATION. 

I  have  here  expatiated  at  such  length  on  the  subject  of  Tk»  impor- 
Rubato,  and  its  application  in  Interpretation,  because  I  ?^edof  RuT 
have  found  that  there  is  generally  such  extreme  vagueness  detract  from 
and  misunderstanding  with  regard  to  these  facts.     But  while  the  impor- 
Rubato  is,  as  I  have  shown,  such  an  indispensable  factor  tanceoftone 
in  Interpretation,  and  calls  for  so  much  careful  and  detailed  ^,^5^ 
attention,  this  must  not  lead  us  to  minimise  the  importance 
of  other  factors,  such  as  those  of  Tone-contrast  (those  of 
Quantity  as  well  as  those  of  Quality),  and  those  contrasts 
of  Duration,  which,  whether  obtained  by  finger  or  foot, 
are  also,  alas,  so  often  lamentably  overlooked  —  a  point 
upon  which  I  shall  have  more  to  say  presently,   under 
Pedalling. 

The  necessity  for  the  application  of  all  such  color-effects  Lidt  of  tonc* 
is  patent  to  everyone  who  has  the  least  claim  to  a  musical  va?et*1?  dn 
ear.     It  is  surprising,   however,  how  frequently  this  im-  by  the 
perative    requirement    of   tone-inflection    is,    nevertheless,  teacher. 
overlooked  by  the  inexperienced  teacher,  and  this,  although  he 
may  be  quite  well  aware  of  its  importance!  True, 

he  hears  (or  sometimes  does  not  hear!)  that  his  pupil's 
performance  is  appallingly  unmusical  —  sometimes  enough 
to  make  him  almost  shriek  with  the  downright  misery  of 
it  —  and  the  more  musical  he  is  himself,  the  greater  the 

107 


accurate 
listening  and 
analysing 


108  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

misery  for  him.  Yet  he  fails  to  observe  the  cause  of  his 
misery,  fails  to  notice  that  his  pupil's  performance  is  either 
a  mere  stumbling,  straight  line  of  tone  —  totally  devoid  of 
any  inflections;  or  else  that  it  is  far  worse,  and  is  strewn 
all  over  with  supposed  details  of  "expression,"  which  are 
all  diametrically  opposed  to  musical  sense. 

I  find  many  a  supposed  teacher  continually  experiencing 
this  kind  of  torture  without  stirring  a  limb  to  save  himself, 
or  making  any  attempt  to  stave  off  at  least  some  of  this 
very  real  and  intense  suffering,  but  instead,  accepting  the 
situation  "as  one  of  the  inevitable  drawbacks  of  our  pro- 
fession!" 
Need  of  Of  course,  I  should  not  say  he  "listens."  Indeed, 

he  does  not  listen  any  better  than  his  pupil  does;   that  is 
precisely  where  all  the  trouble  begins,  he  merely  "hears." 
again  demon-  He  hears  sufficiently  to  make  him  sick  at  heart,  but  he 
8trmted*         does  not  "listen"  —  does  not  analyse  in  the  least  what  he 
is  hearing. 

Not  to  notice  that  the  source  of  his  discomfort  may 
possibly  be  traced  to  the  absence  of  any  Rubato-inflections 
is  perhaps  excusable  in  a  measure,  since  these  inflections 
are  comparatively  subtle,  and  he  may  have  been  brought 
up  in  the  notion  that  such  devices  must  not  be  taught,  are 
really  "very  sinful,"  and  "only  rarely"  to  be  applied,  and 
still  more  rarely  so  by  children,  and  never  in  the  music  of 
a  composer  who  has  been  dead  for  more  than  fifty  years! 
But  with  regard  to  tone-inflections  the  case  is  different. 
Doubtless  his  up-bringing  has  insisted  on  the  necessity  of 
these,  even  with  children,  so  there  is  really  no  excuse  for 
his  putting  up  with  prison-like,  brick  walls  of  dull,  un- 
inflected  sound,  when  perhaps,  after  all,  only  a  little  effort 
is  required  from  him,  to  enable  the  hitherto  "unmusical" 
pupil  to  supply  the  needful  tone-inflections,  and  to  apply 


CONCERNING    TONE-INFLECTION,    ETC. 


109 


these  correctly,  thanks  to  a  proper  teaching  of  the  analysis 
of  Music,  and  of  Touch.  The  Means  and  Laws  of  tone- 
inflection  when  thus  taught,  renders  the  teaching  of  Music 
no  longer  an  extreme  misery  to  the  teacher,  but  an  extreme 
delight  to  him,  as  it  should  be  .  .  .  not  to  speak  of  the 
revelation  it  will  be  to  his  pupils! 

In  this  connection  there  is  another  point  which  is  often  Want  of  true 
overlooked  by  teachers.     They  do  hear  that  the  pupil  is  not  pp  is  mo8tly 
giving  sufficient  variety  of  tone,  but  they  try  to  make  the  denCiency  in 
correction  at  the  wrong  end.     They  try  to  insist  on  more  tone  coloring, 
for  the  accents  and  the  fortes,  whereas,  all  the  time,  the 
fault  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  pupils  never  get  within  measur- 
able distance  of  a  true  piano,  not  to  speak  of  pianissimo! 
For  instance,   they  will  begin  the   "Moonlight"   Sonata 
nearer  mf  than  pp,  thus :  — 


(The  lecturer  here  played  a  few  bars  from  the  opening  of  Beethoven's  Op.  27 
in  this  way,  and  then  with  the  correction;  also  he  gave  the  Episode  of 
Chopin's  D  flat  Prelude,  with  its  long  crescendo  from  pp,  in  further 
illustration  of  this  point.) 


Or  they  play  their  accompaniments  far  too  loudly.  Let 
me  give  you  a  few  bars  from  Schumann's  Concertstuck  in 
G,  illustrating  this  point,  thus: 


Example  68. 

(ppp  not  v\f) 


Rvbato:   unpoAetttno  accel. 


110  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

After  this  it  will  not  surprise  you  when  I  assert  that 
deficiency  in  tone-coloring  is  mostly  due  to  lack  of  low 
tints. 

When  you  give  your  next  lesson,  just  bear  in  mind  what 
I  have  said,  and  you  will  find  that  your  pupils  are  every- 
where lavishly  throwing  their  chances  away,  and  are  wasting 
tone,  right  and  left!  Say  that  a  phrase  comes  out  dull 
and  uninteresting  (even  with  a  pupil  who  is  trying  to  "scan" 
his  phrases  properly) ;  in  most  cases  you  will  find  the  fault 
is,  that  the  pupil  begins  the  phrase  with  as  much  tone  as  he 
should  reserve  for  its  climax. 

Make  him  cut  away  the  tone  at  the  beginning  of  the 
phrase,  and  at  once  the  phrase  will  stand  out  clear  as  a 
cameo.1 
After  a  long        Another  fault  of  tone-balance,  frequent  in  passages  con- 
note, the        sisting  of  notes  of  different  lengths,  is,  after  a  long  note 
continuation  ,  °       '       '      .  . 

of  the  same    m  sucn  a  passage,  to  commence  the  continuation  with  the 

phrase  is       same  tone  that  was  given  to  the  last  long  note.  In 

often  played  pr0perly  playing  such  continuation,  we  should  take  care  to 
give  the  note  which  starts  the  continuation  with  no  more  tone 
(or  hardly  more  tone)  than  the  last  preceding  long  note  is 
actually  heard  to  give  just  before  that  continuation  is  due; 
otherwise  the  beginning  of  the  continuation  will  inevitably 
sound  like  the  beginning  of  a  new  phrase,  and  therefore 
"out  of  focus."2 


Cut  away  the  l  A  similar  fault  is  apt  to  occur  when  trying  to  make  a  melody  "stand 
tone  to  ren-  out"  above  its  accompaniment,  or  when  one  note  of  a  chord  has  to  be 
der  certain  sounded  more  strongly  than  the  others.  Mistakenly,  the  player  tries 
note8#  to  give  extra  tone  to  these  notes,  instead  of  cutting  away  the  tone  of  the 

prominent      0thers,  and  thus  leaving  the  unsubdued  notes  prominent. 

1  Remember,  the  tone  of  the  long  note  decreases  from  the  moment  of 

its  percussion,  onwards.    See  also  Section  III,  page  75,  re  the  treatment 

of  passages  consisting  of  notes  of  unequal  lengths. 


CONCERNING   TONE-INFLECTION,    ETC.  Ill 

Let  me  give  you  an  illustration  or  two  on  this  point: 
Example  69  From  the  Adagio  of  the  "Path&ique"  Sonata. 


^Incorrect 


poco  rubato 


-*tffwt*- 


In  the  above  example  the  notes  marked  with  a  cross  must  not  be 
played  with  the  same  full  tone  as  that  given  to  the  last  preceding  long  note. 

Example  70  From  Chopin's  Funeral  March. 

jftfr(>)  not.K>L 

X 


Example  71. 


From  Chopin's  Nocturne  in  F  sharp  minor. 


J>.-J£... -A_ JL_!  £JP 


_A_ JL_1 


Rubato:  unpocdiettinoacoA 


112 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


.ritard. 


The  indi- 
vidualization 
and  balance 
of  the  con- 
stituent 
notes  of 
chords,  oc- 
taves, etc. 


Another  point  with  regard  to  tone-coloring,  which  re- 
quires constant  judgement,  is  the  balancing  of  the  tone  in 
chords,  etc.,  —  that  is,  the  balancing  of  the  tone  of  the 
several  notes  constituting  each  separate  chord.1 

Much  variety  of  coloring  is  available  by  thus  giving 
greater  or  less  prominence  to  the  upper  part,  or  lower  part, 
or  inside  notes  of  chords,  etc.  Every  true  artist,  in  fact, 
unconsciously  chooses  the  color  for  every  note  of  every 
chord  he  plays. 

Even  in  the  case  of  a  single  octave,  three  quite  distinct 
colorings  can  be  given  in  this  way;  we  can  either  make  (a) 


1  Each  note  of  every  chord  must  indeed  be  meant  as  accurately  as  the 
note-details  of  every  finger-passage.  Do  not  play  a  chord  as  a  lump  of 
sound  with  the  arm  "dabbed"  down  upon  the  key-board,  but  instead, 
think  of  the  three  or  four  constituent  sounds  and  fingers  of  each  chord. 
Will  the  exact  sound  of  each  constituent  note  of  each  chord,  its  exact 
quantity  and  quality  of  tone,  and  its  precise  duration  in  each  case.  Chord 
passages,  after  all,  are  always  "finger-passages"  —  in  this  sense,  that  the 
requisite  fingers  have  to  be  called  upon  to  do  their  work  individually, 
each  one  in  each  chord,  etc. 

In  this  connection,  the  following  is  good  exercise:  hold  a  chord  at  key- 
surface  level  firmly  (but  loosely)  by  means  of  finger-force  only,  and  rotate 
the  forearm  in  the  meantime  both  ways  a  few  times,  doing  this  guite  freely 
while  thus  keeping  hold  of  all  the  notes  of  the  chord  by  the  individual 
fingers —  a  capital  "  finger-individualization  "  study.  See  also:  Relaxa- 
tion Studies,"  pp.  102  and  120,  for  similar  exercises. 


CONCERNING   TONE-INFLECTION,    ETC. 


113 


the  upper  note  prominent,  or  (b)  the  lower  note  prominent, 
or  (c)  can  give  both  with  equal  tone-amount;  and  octave 
passages,  when  thus  differently  colored,  have  quite  a  differ- 
ent effect,  musically. 

(This  was  illustrated.) 

To  show  you  how  much  depends  upon  such  means  of 
coloring  in  octaves,  etc.,  and  the  subtle  effects  thus  avail- 
able, I  will  play  a  few  bars  from  the  slow  movement  of 
Beethoven's  Sonata  in  E  flat,  Op.  27. 

I  will  play  the  octaves  in  the  right  hand,  at  first  with 
equal  tone  for  both  the  notes  of  the  octave,  then  with  the 
lower  note  more  prominent,  and  then  with  the  upper  note 
more  sung: 


Example  72a. 

Adagio  con  express. 


I  will  now  play  you  as  another  example  of  similar  color- 
ing, the  coda  of  Debussy's  "Reflets  dans  l'eau."  The  last 
two  lines  of  this  played  with  " solid"  color,  would  to  my 
mind  sound  horrible.  I  prefer  to  play  the  right-hand  part 
quite  ppp,  and  in  the  left-hand  the  lowest  note  of  the  low 
chords  more  prominently  —  say  mp,  the  upper  notes  pp; 
while  the  lowest  note  of  the  upper  (trebled)  accompanying 


114 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


melody  should  again  be  rather  prominent.    You  remember 
the  passage: 

Example  72b.1 

Lent  (dansune  sonorite  harmonieuse  ethiniaine) 


Hardly  any  two  successive  harmonies  are  played  alike, 
in  this  sense,  by  a  true  artist  or  musical  person  —  his  sense 
of  harmonic  values  and  progressions  will  unconsciously  guide 
him  constantly  to  make  subtle  variations  of  tone-balance  of 
the  constituent  notes  of  each  chord  or  harmony. 

As  an  example  of  such  varied  chord-coloring,  I  will  play 
you  the  E  minor  Prelude  of  Chopin.  Notice  how  the  tone- 
balance  in  the  soft  accompanying  chords  must  be  con- 
stantly varied,  by  prominentising  the  interesting  features 

1  By  kind  permission  of  MM.  Durand  et  fils,  Paris,  publishers  and 
proprietors. 


CONCERNING   TONE-INFLECTION,    ETC.  115 

of  its  harmonic  progressions.  This  should  be  done,  of 
course,  so  slightly  and  subtly  as  not  to  draw  attention  to 
this  means  of  expression,  as  such.  But  I  may  have  to 
exaggerate  the  point  here,  slightly,  so  as  to  make  it  plain 
to  you. 

(The  lecturer  here  illustrated  the  Prelude  in  question.) 

Still  another  point,  often  lost  sight  of  by  average  players,  Lcss  force 
sometimes  even  by  those  aspiring  to  the  artist-status  is,  ££?£ 
that  far  less  force  is  required  for  the  production  of  the  high  high  notes 
notes  of  the  instrument,  than  that  necessary  to  produce  the  than  the  low 
middle  or  lower  sounds.     Such  players  fail  to  notice  that  n?tes  of  the 
the  same  force  which  will  produce  merely  a  pleasant  forte 
in  the  bass  of  the  piano,  will  produce  a  hideous  shriek 
when  applied  to  the  high  treble  notes. 

To  convince  the  student  on  this  point,  show  him  how 
long  and  thick  are  the  lower  strings,  and  how  thin  and  very 
short  are  the  higher  ones  —  the  sounding  part  of  the  highest 
strings  is  only  about  two  inches  long!  Hence,  in  playing  a 
rising  passage,  which  is  meant  to  be  of  even  tone,  we  must 
really  play  with  a  decrescendo  of  force,  otherwise  the  highest 
notes  will  be  of  undue  tone- value.1 

Under  "Rubato"  we  saw  how  we  could  give  emphasis  Tk*  ton*1 
to  single  notes  by  a  slight  "hanging  round"  them  as  to  *?*     .smg 
Time  —  that  is,  by  "agoggic"  or  time-accents,  given  either  notes  should 
before  the  sounding  oTsuch  notes,  or  after  sounding  them,  not  lead  to 
We  must  however,  as  a  rule,  guard  against  a  tendency  tasteless 
always  to  give  such  Rubato-accents  just  because  we  happen  accent8. 
to  wish  to  make  the  notes  of  a  melody  tonally  prominent  in 
passages  where  the  accompaniment  is  played  by  the  same 

1  Obviously,  it  requires  far  less  force  to  move  a  thin  string,  only  two 
inches  in  length,  than  to  move  the  mass  of  a  thick  one,  some  six  feet  in 
length. 


116 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


hand.  This  constitutes  a  fault  in  taste  (or  technique) 
often  met  with.  Remember,  to  add  a  rubato  leaning  to 
notes  already  glaringly  emphasized  by  their  tonal  contrast 
to  the  accompaniment  is  only  likely  to  lead  to  a  very 
mawkish  effect.  Therefore,  do  not  play  Chopin's  A  flat 
Study  thus:  — 

Example  73a. 


But  thus: 

Example  736. 


Here  the  flow  of  semiquavers  (sixteenth  notes)  should 
remain  quite  uninterrupted,  in  spite  of  the  sounding  of  the 
fcma%-prominent  melody  notes  and  bass  notes. 

There  is  no  difficulty  in  doing  this,  provided  the  laws  as 
to  the  rotational  action  of  the  Forearm  are  obeyed  —  and 
provided,  that  the  notes  of  the  accompaniment  are  played 
with  those  keys  partially  lowered  before  their  actual  final 
swing-down  in  the  act  of  tone-production.1 

1  See  the  author's  "Some  Commentaries  on  Pianoforte  Playing," 
(Longmans),  and  "  The  Forearm  Rotation  Principle  "  (Williams) . 


THE    TEACHING    OF   TECHNIQUE  117 

Now,  with  regard  to  the  teaching  of  the  wherewithall  of  The  bearing 
Tone-contrasts  —  the   teaching   of   Touch,   Agility,    Key-  ?£  th'Jeac^" 

.  ,       ,  .  .  ing  of  1  ouch, 

treatment,  or  whatever  term  you  may  prefer  for  this  part  etc#f  upon 
of  the  subject,  I  need  not  go  into  these  matters  here,  as  I  the  teaching 
have  been  sufficiently  explicit  about  them  elsewhere  —  and  of  Inter- 
at  great  length!    It  goes  without  saying,  that  during  the  pre 
teaching  of  Interpretation,  I  insist  that  it  is  necessary  all 
the  time  to  pay  close  attention,  and  to  render  the  minutest 
obedience  to  those  laws  of  key-treatment  and  laws  of  mus- 
cular action  and  inaction,  which  have  been  formulated  in 
my  various  books  on  Technique  and  Touch.1 

Unless  the  teacher  is  fully  alive  to  the  bearing  of  these  Command 
Laws, — and  this,  during  every  minute  of  his  teaching  hours,  ovef  uiter- 
he  is  not  "teaching"  Pianoforte-playing  at  all,  in  the  true  implies  com- 
sense  of  that  word;  for  he  is  certainly  not  " helping  his  mand over 
pupils  to  learn,"  but  is  merely  telling  them  to  learn,  which  is  ted"1"*1 
a  totally  different  thing. 

The  truly  conscientious  teacher  indeed  not  only  diagnoses  Obedience 
every  detail  of  Rubato-inflection,  but  diagnoses  also  every  to  the  laws 
fault  of  Tone-inflection,  every  fault  in  duration,  every  sign  technique 
of  weakness  as  regards  Agility;  and,  whenever  any  of  these  must  con- 
faults  are  traceable  to  disobedience  to  the  Laws  of  Touch,  stantlybe 
he,  in  each  and  every  case,  explains  these  laws  and  processes  maB 
to  the  pupil  —  while  taking  care  in  the  meantime  that  the 
immediate  musical  purpose  is  never  lost  sight  of.     This  he 
does,  so  that  the  pupil  himself  may  learn  to  know  how  to 
correct  such  faults  directly  in  the  future  —  if  he  will  but 

1  Works  which  had  been  overdue  for  a  century  or  more;  therefore 
the  reader  is  here  referred  to  the  author's  "Act  of  Touch,"  to  the  School 
book,  "First  Principles,"  and  to  their  Supplement:  "Some  Commen- 
taries on  Pianoforte  Playing"  (Longmans).  Also:  " Relaxation  Studies" 
(Bosworth);  "A  Child's  First  Steps,"  and  "The  Forearm  Rotation 
Principle,"  etc.  (Joseph  Williams,  and  the  Boston  Music  Co.). 


118  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

take  the  trouble  to  do  so.  In  this  way  the  pupil  gradually 
learns  how  every  inflection  and  gradation  of  Tone  and 
Duration,  and  Speed-requirement  is  physically  producible, 
and  producible  with  absolute  certainty. 

In  this  year  of  grace,  in  this  country  at  least,1  where  such 
"direct"  teachings  have  already  become  practically  com- 
pulsory through  public  opinion,  it  is  unnecessary  to  point 
out  that  this  "direct"  teaching  of  the  essentials  of  Key- 
treatment  is  not  only  as  important  to  the  Pianist-student  as 
the  teaching  of  Interpretation  and  Music,  but  that  it  is 
really  far  more  important  to  him.  In  this  respect  even 
Germany,  which  has  stood  still  for  so  many  years,  com- 
placently and  with  such  thoroughness  insisting  on  the 
interminable  exercise-grinding  and  other  monumental  blun- 
ders of  certain  of  her  schools,  even  Germany  is  at  last 
awakening.  As  I  have  already  pointed  out  elsewhere,2 
healthily  revolutionary  writers  there  are  now  trying,  with 
trenchant  pen,  to  bring  their  country  up-to-date  and  to  her 
senses  with  regard  to  more  common-sense  methods  of 
teaching  Technique  and  Touch.  These  German  teachings, 
although  still  tentative  and  erroneous  in  a  measure,  are  at 
least  similar  in  tendency  to  those  of  ours,  now  so  long  estab- 
lished and  accepted  here  in  England  and  elsewhere.3 

1  In  Great  Britain. 

1  See  "  Some  Commentaries  on  Pianoforte  Playing." 
Knowledge  *  Even  with  the  beginner,  even  with  the  child,  must  these  teachings  of 

of  the  laws  Touch  or  Technique  be  insisted  upon.  It  is  easier  to  learn  aright  in  the 
of  touch  and  first  stages  than  later  on,  when  various  preconceptions  and  wrong  habits 
technique  0f  mincl  and  body  prove  to  be  severe  stumbling  blocks  and  barriers 
necessary        difficult  to  surmount. 

kIIT  °     *         Harm  only  will  result  from  practice  unless  the  beginner  understands 

^"^    '        at  least  the  laws  as  to  the  key  itself.    For  instance,  he  must  understand 

that  he  can  only  direct  and  produce  tone  by  a  careful  "aiming"  of  the 

key  itself  —  each  time  for  each  note;  that  key-speed  is  tone,  and  that  no 


THE   TEACHING   OF   TECHNIQUE  119 

As  with  the  beginner,  so  with  the  advanced  performer, 
while  you  are  teaching  the  interpretation  of  Music,  you 
must  meanwhile  always  insist  on  an  accurate  obedience  to 
all  the  laws  of  Touch,  for  on  such  obedience  does  accu- 
racy in  Interpretation  intimately  depend. 

True,  later  on  in  the  student's  and  artist's  work,  many  of  Points  as  to 
these  laws  of  Touch-procedure  require  but  little  reminder,  tot?c.  re~ 

*  *  quiring  con- 

provided  they  have  been  thoroughly  mastered ;  that  is,  pro-  stant  re- 
vided  the  correct  actions  have  been  made  into  unshakable  minder, 
habits.  But  there  are  always  some  particular  points  which 
nevertheless  require  constant  reminder,  even  with  the  best 
players;  and  an  unremittingly  close  and  unswerving  atten- 
tion is  therefore  here  required  from  the  teacher,  pupil,  and 
artist. 

Let  me  go  over  these  points;  there  are  four  such  that  seem 
to  stand  out  beyond  all  others;  two  are  concerned  with  the 
key  itself,  and  two  with  the  muscular  apparatus. 

With  regard  to  the  key:  first,  during  performance,  as  I 
have  just  said,  we  must  insist  on  that  constant  observation 
of  key-resistance  (before  and  especially  during  the  key's 
descent)  without  which  aspect  of  attention  we  cannot  arrive 
anywhere  near  an  accurate  expression  (or  presentation) 
of  what  we  may  feel  or  see  musically.  With  regard 

further  tone  can  be  produced,  once  the  hopper  has  fulfilled  its  mission; 
i.e.,  that  sounds  must  be  made  through  a  purposed,  felt  and  carefully- 
directed  key-motion,  each  one  accurately  timed.  Even  points  of  mere 
elementary  knowledge  such  as  these  will  save  him  years  of  time,  otherwise 
wasted  in  the  unlearning  of  wrong  habits.  Moreover,  he  cannot 

get  much  further,  unless  he  also  has  some  notion  as  to  the  function  of 
Armweight,  and  its  almost  complete  elision  between  the  successive  tone- 
makings;  and  he  must,  besides  this,  have  a  very  solid  understanding  of 
the  function  of  Forearm  Rotation,  and  how  constant  changes  in  such 
rotary-activity  are  required  of  him  —  required  indeed  for  each  note,  even 
when  he  grapples  with  his  first  five  finger  exercise. 


120  MUSICAL  INTERPRETATION 

to  the  key:  secondly,  we  must  constantly  insist  on  accuracy 
in  "aiming"  each  key-descent;  that  is,  we  must  insist  on 
accuracy  in  timing  the  completion  of  each  key-descent,  and 
without  which  aspect  of  attention,  again,  we  shall  lose  all 
accuracy  of  expression,  and  also  all  Agility-ease,  and  control 
over  Duration.1 

With  regard  to  the  muscular  problem,  the  whole  here 
resolves  itself  ultimately  into  freedom  of  action,  and  the  two 
points  which  for  this  reason  imperatively  demand  constant 
attention  and  reminder  are:  first,  insistance  on  a  real  free- 
dom of  the  whole  arm  in  all  passages  requiring  Weight 
during  the  moment  of  tone  production,  and  the  real  elision 
of  all  "down-arm"  force  (and  excessive  weight)  between 
the  successive  acts  of  tone  production  —  that  insistence 
upon  the  freely-poised  arm,  without  which,  true  Agility 
ever  remains  impossible.     Secondly,  insistence  on  the  al- 
ways carefully  applied  Forearm-rotatory  actions,  inaccuracy 
in  which  respect  will  vitiate  practically  every  note  we  play. 
Musical  and      Here  I  must  re-iterate  once  again  the  warning  which  I 
t*fJu*'~       have  so  often  urgently  insisted  upon,  that  in  learning  and 
must  never    teaching   the   wherewithal   of   Technique   or   Touch,    the 
be  allowed     purpose  of  such  learning  must  never  be  lost  sight  of  for  a 
to  flag,  while  moment.2    At  the  Piano,  the  pupil  must  never,  even  for  a 
tionto the  '  moment,  be  allowed  to  think  of  a  muscular  action  (however 
details  of       necessary)  apart  from  the  musical  sense  of  the  notes  he  is 
muscular       sounding.    The  necessary  trend  of  the  mind  must  always 
ue*  on"     be:  (a)  "Musical  sense  tells  me  this  note  must  sound  then, 
and  thus";  and  (b)  "  I  must  be  sure  to  feel  the  resistance  of  the 
key  during  its  down-movement  so  that  I  shall  be  able  to  give 

1  Vide  "Act  of  Touch"  and  "First  Principles"  for  the  various  warn- 
ings given  under  this  head,  especially  pages  125  and  126  of  the  last-named 
work;  also  "  Child's  First  Steps  "  pages  2  and  19. 

*  We  need  not  think  of  timing  the  beginning  of  the  act  of  key-descent, 
but  we  must  think  of  timing  key-descent  to  end  at  the  right  moment. 


THE   TEACHING   OP   FINGERING  121 

the  required  tone,  rightly  timed  " ;  and  finally,  (c)  "  the  mus- 
cular requirements  are  such-and-such  to  enable  me  to  suc- 
ceed in  this."  That  is,  the  mental  impetus  is  in  this  order: 
"Time-spot  —  Tone-kind  —  Key-need  —  Muscular-fulfil- 
ment." It  is  but  one  flash  of  thought,  thus  built  up.  In 
the  end,  Musical-feeling  and  Intelligence  must  auto- 
matically prompt  the  taking  of  all  these  precautions,  and  it 
seems  but  one  act  of  consciousness  —  this  giving  oneself  up 
to  musical  feeling,  emotion,  rhythmical  impulse  and  key 
requirements.  Nevertheless,   timing  and  feeling  can 

never  become  an  automatic  act.  It  is  always  the  act  of 
consciousness  itself  which  makes  Music  through  these,  and 
there  is  no  real  music  without  such,  as  there  is  no  act  of 
conscious  thought  without  a  timing  of  it.  See  also,  pp.  33 
Text,  41  Note,  57  Text,  and  Section  VI. 

Closely  connected  with  the  question  of  Touch  itself  is  The  bearing 
that  of  fingering.  The  older,  and  now  out-of-date  of  fjn8erins 

on  Interpre- 

teachers  of  course  placed  an  absurdly  high  value  on  this  tation,  and 
department  of  their  work,  and  in  fact  seemed  to  rely  on  it  the  learning 
as  a  cure  for  all  ills  —  and  some  modern  artists  still  exhibit  of  lts  laws* 
the  same  failing.     Granted,  when  your  technique  is  ineffi- 
cient, or  your  knowledge  of  its  Laws  is  inadequate,  that 
choice  of  fingering  assumes  a  vast  importance,  since  it  then 
often  means  the  difference  between  barely  managing  to 
negotiate  a  passage,  and  not  being  able  to  encompass  it  at 
all.    With  proper  teaching,  however,  and  knowledge  of  the 
physical  causes  which  render  a  passage  "difficult"  or  the 
reverse,  choice  of  fingering  is  found  to  become  a  matter  of 
quite  secondary  importance,  since  a  far  greater  number  of 
optional  fingerings  become  practicable  where  the  technical 
habits  are  good.      I  have  noted  the  main  laws  of  fin- 
gering in  my  "Relaxation  Studies,"  and  in  the  special 


122 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Fingering, 
also,  must 
not  be 
"  crammed." 


Its  proper 
teaching. 


The  memor- 
ising of 
fingering. 


excerpt  from  that  book,  published  separately.1  I  need 
not  therefore  go  into  these  matters  here,  except  to  refer 
to  one  point  there  noted,  and  that  is,  that  great  care 
must  be  exercised  in  Fingering  as  everywhere  else,  to 
guard  against  a  mere  cramming  of  "things,"  in  place  of  a 
true  teaching  of  abiding  principles,  and  the  nature  of  the 
facts  concerned.  Thus,   in  merely  jotting  down  the 

required  fingering  for  the  pupil  without  comment  or  expla- 
nation, you  are  not  giving  him  any  real  education;  it  is  of 
no  permanent  value  to  the  pupil  to  tell  him  merely  to  "put 
the  thumb  here/'  or  "the  fifth  finger  there." 

No,  instead  of  merely  writing  down  the  fingering  of  a 
passage,  you  must  always  explain  why  it  is  chosen,  and  how 
the  choice  is  arrived  at.  The  main  principle  which  you 
must  here  make  clear  to  your  pupil,  is,  that  choice  of  fin- 
gering consists  in  selecting  such  finger-groups  which  will  most 
easily  lie  over  the  piano-keys  concerned,  while  at  the  same 
time  giving  due  consideration  to  the  necessity  of  joining 
such  fingering-groups  each  one  to  the  next  or  preceding 
one,  by  means  of  the  cementing  action  provided  by  the 
passing-over  or  under  of  the  thumb  and  other  fingers. 

The  pupil  will  have  no  difficulty  in  remembering  his  finger- 
ings, once  he  grasps  the  fact,  that  it  is  not  this  finger  or 
that  finger  which  matters,  but  that  it  is  always  a  finger- 
group  which  is  in  question  —  either  a  complete  group  or  an 
incomplete  one.  In  a  word,  the  act  of  memorising  finger- 
ing consists  in  associating  a  certain  set  of  fingers  with  a 
certain  set  of  notes ;  this  precisely  defines  the  process,  which 
is  therefore  an  act  of  mental  association  like  every  other 
form  of  memorising. 

Besides  thus  rendering  it  easy  for  the  pupil  to  memorise 
fingerings,  and  thus  to  speed-up  the  learning  of  passages, 
1  "Fingering  and  Pedalling,"  London,  Bosworth  and  Co. 


THE   TEACHING   OF   FINGERING  123 

such  rational  teaching  will  at  the  same  time  ensure  his 
learning  how  to  set  about  the  choice  of  fingering  for 
himself.  This  is  an  important  point,  since  it  is  far  more 
easy  to  choose  satisfactory  fingering  for  oneself  than  to 
have  this  done  by  anyone  else  —  however  expert  the  editor 
or  teacher.  Each  individual  hand  has  its  own  idiosyn- 
cracies;  therefore,  fingering  chosen  by  another  person 
cannot  be  so  appropriate  as  that  of  one's  own  choice,  always 
provided,  of  course,  that  one  has  acquired  the  requisite 
mastery  over  this  subject. 

For  instance,  in  teaching  the  scale  fingerings,  do  not  tell 
your  pupil  where  the  thumb  or  other  separate  finger  has 
to  go,  but  at  once  show  him  that  all  scales  consist  of  two 
groups  of  fingerings,  a  long  one  and  a  short  one  —  the  actual 
lie  of  these  two  groups  being  determined  for  each  particular 
scale  by  the  position  of  the  black  keys,  and  by  the  necessity 
of  choosing  the  easiest  positions  for  turning  the  thumb 
under,  etc. 

In  the  diatonic  scale,  for  instance,  we  have  the  two  groups : 

123  and  1234,  these  two  sets  of  finger-groups  being  then 
mentally  (and  tonally)  connected  with  the  sets  of  three  or 
four  notes  which  they  respectively  cover,  in  each  scale, 
the  fingering  and  the  notes  of  the  scale  are  thus  simul- 
taneously memorised.1 

1  I  consider  it  best  to  finger  Double  Thirds  scales  similarly  in  two 

i 2345  ( 345 

groups,  a  long  one  and  a  short  one;  viz.:  R.  H.    J  and  )OQ . . 

See  "Double  Thirds  scales,  their  fingering  and  mastery"  (Joseph  Wil- 
liams), where  I  have  carried  out  this  principle. 

The  repeated  thumb  presents  no  difficulty,  unless  one  suffers  from 
the  vicious  habit  of  "key-bedding;"  and  legato  is  less  imperfect  with 
this  fingering  than  with  the  old-fashioned  three  finger-groups  in  one. 
octave. 


124  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

(The  lecturer  here  illustrated  this  point,  by  taking  the  scale  of  E  flat,  and 
showing  where  the  two  finger-groups  occur  in  this  scale,  the  place  depending 
not  on  the  key-note,  but  on  the  position  of  the  black  keys  relatively  to  the 
white  ones). 

By  thus  learning  where  the  whole  finger-group  each  time 
lies  over  the  key-board,  we  necessarily  also  learn  the  place 
for  each  individual  finger.  To  try  to  learn  fingering  in 

the  opposite  way — from  the  other  end,  as  separate  fingers 
first — is  impracticable,  and  in  any  case  we  shall  certainly 
not  succeed  in  remembering  where  such  separated  fingers 
occur,  until  we  do  notice  where  the  complete  finger-note- 
group  lies. 


SECTION  V 
PEDALLING  AND  THE  ELEMENT  OF  DURATION 

We  will  now  pass  on  to  another  matter  which  is  dis- 
gracefully neglected  by  the  average  teacher  and  pianist,  I 
refer  to  the  properly  directed  use  of  the  Damper  Pedal. 

This  neglect  no  doubt  arises  in  the  first  instance  from  a  just  as  close 
totally  wrong  outlook  as  regards  the  Piano  itself.    Those  attention 
who  thus  misuse  Or  neglect  the  Pedal  evidently  consider  foJJJ^fo,0 
"Pedalling"  to  be  something  apart,  separate  and  distinct  finger, 
from  Piano-playing  itself,  instead  of  recognising  the  fact 
that  Piano-playing  can  only  be  successfully  accomplished, 
provided  we  superintend  the  doings  of  our  right  foot  just 
as  minutely  —  and  constantly  —  as  we  must  the  doings  of 
our  fingers  at  the  keyboard. 

It  is  indeed  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  most  of  the  Most  pedal- 
pedalling  one  hears,  even  from  advanced  players  (aye,  even  ■*!  *  m^M 
from  concert-pianists)  is  just  about  as  bad  as  are  the  smears 
and  blotches  which  a  child  makes  in  its  first  attempts  to 
paint  a  picture.  While  we  are  still  mere  babies,  most  of 

us,  however,  have  sufficient  sense  to  feel  deeply  disgusted, 
mortified  and  humiliated,  when  we  see  the  color-messes 
which  result  from  our  well-meant,  hard  striving  to  make 
"a  pretty  picture." 

Nevertheless,  here  at  the  Piano,  we  have  fully  grown-up 
people,  sometimes  even  quite  musically  gifted,  who  in  spite 
of  all  this,  quite  cheerfully  misuse  their  piano  exactly  as 
these  children  do  their  brush,  and  make  a  very  quagmire  of 
sound,  and  notice  nothing  amiss  —  such  is  the  force  of  habit. 

125 


126 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


I  have  repeated  passages  to  artist-pupils  and  concert- 
players,  pedalled  precisely  as  they  have  pedalled  them  — 
with  every  vestige  of  phrasing  completely  wiped  out  by 
the  pedal,  in  spite  of  a  beautiful  display  of  rising  hands, 
etc.;  and  it  has  been  difficult  to  make  them  believe  they 
could  have  shown  themselves  so  unmusical.1 
Examples  of  For  instance,  I  have  heard  them  pedal  the  A  flat  Waltz 
b*?^!dgood  of  Chopin  (Op.  42)  thus  (see  a,  Exp.  74),  instead  of  doing 
so  properly  in  one  of  the  alternate  ways  (see  6,  c,  and  d, 
Exp.  74) : 


pedalling. 


Example  74. 


aywrong  £. 

d)        21 
^+(for  the  pp  repetition  of  this  theme ) 


Not  enough 
to  feel  the 
breaks  be- 
tween the 
phrasings 
clearly,  one 
must  play 
them  clearly. 


1  As  in  speech,  so  also  in  Music,  phrasing  always  implies  a  break  in  the 
continuity  of  the  legato.  You  must  have  commas,  etc.,  in  your  speech, 
and  you  must  provide  them  also  at  the  piano  as  a  breaking  of  sound- 
continuity,  else  your  performance  will  sound  like  "Flora  Finching's" 
speeches  in  "  Little  Dorrit."  Many  players  quite  forget  this  necessity, 
and  mistakenly  fancy  their  phrases  to  be  quite  well  defined,  while  all  the 
time  they  are  connecting  each  new  phrase  to  each  preceding  one  in  an 
unbroken  continuity  of  legato,  either  by  a  careless  finger,  or  more  often 
by  a  careless  foot  —  to  the  complete  obliteration  of  their  phrasing.  I 
have  even  had  such  argue  with  me,  that  their  phrases  must  be  "quite 
clear''  (in  spite  of  such  non-phrasing)  because  they  themselves  "feel  it 
quite  clearly"  —  as  if  the  mere  fact  of  realising  or  feeling  a  thing 
sufficed  for  its  expression  to  others! 


PEDALLING   AND   THE    ELEMENT  OF    DURATION 


127 


Or  we  hear  them  pedal  a  passage  with  unbroken  legato, 

instead  of  giving  life-giving  contrasts  to  it  as  in  Examples 

75  and  76,  thus:1 

From  Carnival  (Finale).    Schumann. 
Example  75. 


J    Nou£ i   £ I 


1  A  mistake  very  often  made  even  by  advanced  players  is  to  continue  Inadequacy 
holding  the  Pedal  far  too  much,  thus  making  an  unbroken  legato  in  place  of  Pedal- 
of  that  ever  changing  and  contrasting  variety  of  Duration  required  by  discontinu- 
most  music.    They  hold  the  Pedal  wherever  and  whenever  it  can  be  held  lty* 
without  producing  actual  harmonic  cacophony,  instead  of  being  guided  in 
its  use  by  the  ever-changing  and  exact  duration-needs  of  each  note. 

The  wrong  outlook  is:  "can  I  hold  the  pedal  here?"  Whereas  the 
right  one  is:  "  can  I  omit  it  here?" 

Strict  attention  to  the  duration-needs  of  every  note  demonstrates 
how  surprisingly  often  one  may  and  should  omit  or  cut  short  the  Pedal, 
to  the  betterment  of  the  piece. 

How  pathetic  is  it,  for  instance,  to  hear  a  concert-player  giving  a  piece, 
intended  to  be  light  and  gossamer-like,  with  delightful  lightness  and 
brilliancy  of  touch,  and  meanwhile  totally  ruining  the  effect  of  it,  and 
making  it  sound  dull  and  heavy  owing  merely  to  a  carelessly  continuous 
legato  given  to  all  the  underlying  harmonies  and  basses! 

Realize,  that  a  gossamer  curtain  or  piece  of  lace  seems  "light"  to  our 
eyes  simply  because  of  the  spaces  in  its  texture  —  the  Mghi-silences  in  it; 
and  that  lightness  in  musical  effect  is  similarly  wrought  by  the  lapses  in 
sound-continuity  given  to  the  texture  of  the  music. 

As  examples  play  Chopin's  two  studies  in  G  flat,  and  those  in  F  minor 
and  F  major,  and  pedal  the  bass  first  in  unbroken  legato,  and  then  again 
with  as  many  air-spaces  as  possible  in  the  harmonies  and  basses,  and 
realize  how  infinitely  greater  is  the  effectiveness  and  beauty  thus  obtained. 
See  Note,  page  137. 


128 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Example  76 
Allegro 


From  Concertsttick.    Schumann. 


b)tA 

(a)  Legato,  incorrect.  (6)  Varied,  correct. 

Or  again,  we  hear  what  should  be  detached  chords,  draggled 
along  by  the  pedal,  thus: 

From  "Moods  of  a  Moment,"1  No.  2.    Tobias  Matthay. 
Example  77. 

Slowly 


No  doubt,  the  fault  is  often  due  to  the  fact  that  even  the 
best  of  us  do  so  often  allow  ourselves  to  play  without  realty 
listening  to  the  actual  sounds  emanating  from  the  instrument, 
although  our  musical  intentions  may  be  keen  enough. 

As  I  have  already  said  here,  a  very  great  deal  of  unmusical 
playing  arises  purely  from  this  very  fact;  for  we  may  be 
meaning  things,  musically,  quite  meritoriously,  but  they 
cannot  "arrive "  unless  we  take  the  very  simple  and  common- 
sense  precaution  to  listen  accurately  to  what  we  are  doing; 

1  By  permission  of  Messrs.  Ascherberg  &  Co. 


PEDALLING   AND   THE   ELEMENT  OF   DURATION  129 

and  this  applies  with  redoubled  force  when  it  is  a  question  Accuracy  in 

Of  DURATION.1  JSlfal  *" 

Unless  we  have  our  minds  constantly  fixed  (through  our  mediately 
physical  ears)  upon  the  actual  sounds  emanating  from  the  upon 
Piano,  we  have  no  inducement  to  let  go  either  the  keys  or  •ecu****  in 
the  Pedal  —  or  to  put  this  down.2  A  simple  cure  for  in-       nmg* 

attentive  pedalling  is  often  found,  in  merely  insisting  on  the 
passage  or  whole  piece,  thus  mispedalled,  being  carefully 
played  through  without  any  pedal  whatever;  close  attention 
to  the  actual  sounds  being  insisted  upon  in  the  meantime. 
It  often  proves  to  be  a  most  startling  revelation  to  the 
would-be  player,  when  he  thus  discovers  that  till  then  he 
had  been  playing  practically  without  really  listening  in  the 
least  to  the  actual  duration  of  the  notes  played! 

Indeed,  far  too  little  attention  is  given  to  the  whole  ques-  Value  of 
tion  of  duration.    No  one  has  pleaded  more  vehemently  than    m*tl0?_ 

r  contrasts 

I  have  for  close  attention  to  the  inexorable  need  for  Tone-  insufficiently 
variety  —  whether  of  quality  or  quantity;  but  while  we  are  realised, 
thus  attending  to  this  particular  requirement,  vital  as  it  is, 
do  not  let  us  in  the  meantime  forget  the  vast  contrasts 
of  Expression  to  be  found  in  contrasts  of  mere  Duration 
—  contrasts  extending  in  compass  from  the  sharpest  stacco- 
tissimo  up  to  the  fullest  legato  or  tenuto,  and  not  only  thus 
far,  but  further;  for  the  contrasts  to  be  obtained  from  vary- 
ing degrees  of  legatissimo  (or  the  overlapping  of  sounds)  are 
indeed  not  the  least  important  of  this  wonderful  element 
of  Duration.3 

1  Remember  what  I  have  said  re  "  Listening,"  pp.  5  and  128-9,  etc. 

2  How  dismally  dry  is  a  singing  passage  when  the  pedal  is  not  used 
as  it  should  be,  almost  for  each  note! 

*  A  good  Scarlatti  Technique,  for  instance  (in  the  modern  playing  of 
him),  depends  greatly  upon  a  full  appreciation  of  the  required  nicety  in 
Duration- values,  just  as  a  Chopin  Technique  so  greatly  depends  on  Tone- 
values,  and  nicety  of  Rubato-inflections  —  and  Pedalling. 


130 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


Gradations 
of  tone  and 
duration 
contrasted. 


Pedal- 
duration 
more  im- 
portant than 

finger-dura- 
tion. 


Let  us  now  try  the  effect  of  a  simple  succession  of  sounds, 
first  given  with  gradations  of  Tone-quantity  only,  and  sec- 
ondly, with  gradations  of  Duration  only: 

Example  78 


0    t  T  T 

7rT 

tr? 

?  —  • 

Tt  t     ™t  t   7~~ 

■t? 

~-~ 

T—  ? 

T-   T      ™ 

♦     »  » 

PP 

i  ♦ »  s 

V 

pp 

Example 

0    i1  ' 

78 

j,   • 

— -j/ 

Notice,  that  this  last  example  is  given  without  the  aid  of 
any  Pedalling.  As  an  example  of  the  application  of  this 
principle  of  Duration,  see  the  slow  movement  from  Beetho- 
ven's Sonata  in  G,  Op.  14,  where  we  have  such  contrasts 
beautifully  applied  and  particularly  noted  by  the  master 
himself;  notice  the  carefully  planned  sequence  of  the 
contrasts : 

(The  lecturer  here  played  the  second  movement  of  this  little  Sonata,  so 
simple  and  yet  so  full  of  delicate  charm  when  adequately  performed.) 

Example  79.  • 

,  mezzo  stacc.  ^ft# 


Really,  when  one  sees  how  often  it  is  quite  overlooked,  one 
feels  inclined  to  assert  that  variety  of  Duration  is  even  of 
greater  importance  than  variety  of  Tone  itself!  Again, 

the  effects  of  Foot-duration  are  even  more  striking  than 
those  of  Finger-duration.  The  sustaining  and  mellowing 
of  notes  by  means  of  the  Pedal  is  an  iridescence  hardly  ever 
absent  in  a  modern  composition.1  This  enhancement  of 
1  See  note  as  to  Chopin's  pedalling,  p.  89,  Note. 


PEDALLING    AND   THE   ELEMENT   OP    DURATION  131 

the  Duration-contrasts  by  the  Pedal,  however,  is  not  owing 
solely  to  the  greater  resonance  thus  obtained,  as  you  might 
at  first  suppose.  .  .  .  True,  a  somewhat  greater  resonance 
does  result  when  the  Pedal  is  depressed,  and  for  this  reason : 
that  when  we  sound  a  note  with  all  the  dampers  raised  by 
the  pedal,  the  sympathetically-inclined  higher  strings  are 
roused  into  action,  while  the  lower  ones  in  addition  give 
the  sounded  note  as  a  harmonic.  Listen  to  the  effect  of  a 
chord  played  without  pedal,  and  then  with  pedal: 

(The  lecturer  here  illustrated  this  point.) 

The  fact  of  more  strings  vibrating  in  sympathy  with  those  Pedal  en" 
sounded  does  therefore  certainly  contribute  to  a  greater  actuc^s  ro_ 
resonance,  but  besides  this  it  also  contributes  to  an  actual  longation  of 
prolongation  of  the  sounds,  and  consequent  richness  in  the  sounds. 
Singing  effects.  Moreover,  when  a  legato  is  evolved 

solely  by  the  fingers,  it  is  mostly  a  case  of  Legato  or  Lega- 
tissimo  between  single  notes,  whereas  with  the  pedal  any 
number  of  notes  can  be  thus  rendered  legato  or  legatissimo. 

Although  I  have  noted  some  of  the  details  of  Pedalling 
in  the  last  chapter  of  my  " Relaxation  Studies"1  I  must 
nevertheless  glance  at  some  of  the  chief  points  here : 

I  think  it  may  be  taken  for  granted,  that  even  the  most  "  Synco- 
primitive  and  antediluvian  of  teachers  have  now  at  least  paje... 

r  ,  pedalling. 

some  hazy  sort  of  notion  as  to  the  nature  and  impor- 
tance of  " syncopated"  pedalling.  The  reason  of  this  re- 
quirement of  course  lies  in  the  fact,  that  if  you  hold  a  key 
down  by  the  finger,  and  then  connect  that  finger  (in  legato) 
to  the  next  note  you  play,  a  bad  smudge  will  result  if  you 
put  the  pedal  down  at  the  same  instant  that  you  depress 
that  next  key.  For,  in  a  finger  passage,  you  will  necessarily 
be  holding  up  the  damper  of  the  first  note  with  one  finger, 

1  "Relaxation  Studies  "  (Bosworth  &  Co.). 


132 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


until  the  very  moment  when  you  sound  the  next  note  with  the 
Why  it  is  next  finger;  therefore,  if  the  pedal  is  made  to  raise  all  the 
required.       dampers  at  that  very  moment,  this  will  prevent  the  previous 

note's  damper  from  descending  and  cutting  off  the  tone, 

hence  the  smudge  and  cacophony. 

For  example,  play  a  simple  scale  in  both  hands,  quite 

slowly  and  legato,  and  depress  the  pedal  for  each  note  at 

the  same  moment  with  the  descending  keys,  and  the  whole 

passage  is  badly  smudged. 

(Illustrated.) 

Whereas,  if  you  pedal  properly  (with  the  pedal  moving 
down  after  the  sounding  of  the  notes,  and  going  up  at  the 
sounding  of  the  next  ones)  you  obtain  a  perfectly  clean 
legato. 

(Illustrated.) 

You  see  therefore,  that  in  all  legato  passages,  the  pedal  must 
rise  as  the  next  legato-note  goes  down  —  that  is,  unless  the 
two  sounds  bear  sounding  together.  In  short,  the  dampers 
must  reach  the  strings  of  the  notes  to  be  damped,  at  the  very 
moment  that  the  hammers  reach  the  next  notes.  That  is, 
the  Pedal  goes  up  as  the  next  finger  goes  down.  Now  let 
us  hear  a  chord-progression  rendered  Legato,  solely  by 
foot-duration.  I  will  choose  the  very  simplest  progression, 
see  A,  Exp.  80 :  • — 

Example  80. 


3       4  j:       |  * 

?-- — I  :      7  ■     ♦ 


Slowly 

oj^.  el 


PEDALLING   AND    THE   ELEMENT   OF   DURATION 


133 


But  in  addition  to  this  unbroken  legato  we  may  have  Legatissimo 
considerable  gradations  of  Duration  beyond  legato,  that  is,  PedaUing- 
gradations  of  Legatissimo  —  or  an  overlapping  of  the  sounds, 
see  B,  Exp.  80. 

In  a  large  room  or  hall,  the  resonance  or  echo  always  Echo-res- 
causes  a  more  or  less  faint  or  incipient  legato  or  legatissimo.  f1""?*0*  a 

_  .  .  i   i     «.         •  n  •  ii  hallisdis- 

But  the  difference  in  pedal-effect  is  even  then  quite  marked  ^^  from 
—  for  the  ear  distinguishes  between  the  resonance  of  the  pedal 
room  and  the  resonance  of  the  Piano.     Let  me  play  both  continuity, 
effects  once  again,  and  you  will  realise  the  contrasts  better: 

(Illustration  repeated.) 

To  ensure  your  realising  how  this  legatissimo  effect  is 
produced,  and  what  enormous  control  it  gives  us  over 
sound-effect,  I  will  now  so  exaggerate  this  "overlapping" 
that  you  can  hear  the  pedal  stop  the  previous  chord  con- 
siderably after  the  appearance  of  the  next  one  —  and 
thus  of  course  producing  a  slight  cacophony  for  the 
moment : 


Example  81. 

Quite  slowly 
cresc 


**   LJ-U-U^J-   H-    U-L ~JJ 


Numberless  examples  might  be  quoted  of  such  "  over-  Examples  of 
lapping"  effects,  even  extreme  ones,  but  I  will  select  one  leg^^un° 
only  —  and  a  very  beautiful  one  —  from  Schumann's  Con- 
certstiick  in  G;  I  have  shown  the  place  by  an  asterisk:  — 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


And  as  an  example  of  that  rarer  effect,  the  extreme  over- 
lapping, I  quote  a  few  bars  from  my  own  "Moods  of  a 
Moment,"  No.  2:  — 


Example  83.1 
Slowly 


Pedal  must 
rise  fully. 


Pedal  must 
remain  up 
long  enough. 


In  teaching  these  up-goings  of  the  pedal,  be  most  careful 
to  insist  that  the  pedal  is  always  allowed  to  rise  sufficiently, 
fully  to  damp  the  intended  sounds,  otherwise  they  will  con- 
tinue to  sound  in  spite  of  the  pedal  having  moved  up  — 
satisfactorily  to  the  foot,  but  not  to  the  ear,  thus:  — 

(The  lecturer  illustrated  this.) 

Also  insist  on  your  pupil  allowing  the  pedal  to  remain  up 
long  enough  to  stop  the  vibrations  of  all  the  strings  —  includ- 
ing the  lower  and  more  powerful  ones,  else  unwittingly,  a 
so-called  "half-damping"  effect  will  result.     This  means 


1  By  permission  of  Messrs.  Ascherberg  &  Co. 


PEDALLING   AND   THE   ELEMENT  OF   DURATION  135 

that  the  lower  strings  of  the  instrument  will  continue  to 
sound  (will  remain  un-damped)  while  the  upper  ones  are 
silenced. 

(Illustrated.) 

Sometimes,  however,  it  happens  that  this  "half-damping"  Half-damp- 
far  rather,  "half -pedalling")  effect  is  actually  required.  mge  ects* 
It  is  required  somewhat  frequently,  not  only  in  modern 
music,  but  also  in  the  older  masters.  Now  remember,  when 
you  do  require  such  "half -damping,"  it  is  obtained  by  pur- 
posely giving  the  otherwise  faulty  action  of  the  pedal-foot 
which  I  have  just  been  warning  you  against.  That  is,  you 
must  not  here  leave  the  pedal  up  long  enough  to  kill  all 
the  previous  sounds;  to  obtain  "half -pedalling"  effects, 
the  pedal  must  be  allowed  to  jump  up  only  for  an  instant, 
and  while  this  momentary  touching  of  the  strings  is  suf- 
ficient to  stop  the  sounding  of  the  higher  strings,  it 
hardly  affects  the  lower  ones  at  all,  and  we  are  thus 
enabled  to  play  changing  harmonies  in  the  upper  registers 
of  the  instrument,  while  retaining  the  sound  of  a  low  bass 
note,  etc.1 

Let  me  give  you  a  simple  example,  where  a  bass  is  held 
through  such  changes  of  harmonies:2 

1  The  so-called  sostenente  pedal  allows  such  sustaining  of  any  note  or  ^e 
notes,  while  not  affecting  the  other  portions  of  the  keyboard.    This  pedal  "  S°sten~ 
is  used  exactly  as  in  the  process  of  ordinary  "syncopated"  pedalling.       e    **e 
The  device  has  been  applied  by  several  makers;  it  is  of  course  an  extra 
expense  in  manufacture,  which  fact  no  doubt  sufficiently  accounts  for  its 
not  being  adopted  generally;  also,  it  is  inclined  to  make  the  touch  of  the 
instrument  a  little  more  clumsy  and  uneven  for  the  time  being  —  that  is, 
while  this  pedal  is  held  down.    Musically,  however,  there  would  be  a 
distinct  advantage  in  having  it  on  all  pianos. 

1  A   familiar   example   is   found   in   the   well-known   Rachmaninoff 
Prelude. 


136 


MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 


Example  84. 


/ 

oiuwiy 

0 

I 

PPl 

I 

a          .?  3 
A^— ' 

P           A 

_A_ 

A 

I 

Half- 
pedalling 
applied  to 
whole 
chords. 


The A A_  mark  in  the  Pedal  line  is  meant  to  suggest  the  momen- 
tary rising  action  of  the  foot  in  those  places  —  the  "  half-damping  "  effect. 

Whole  chords,  low  down,  may  also  be  somewhat  similarly 
"half -damped;"  only  a  small  remainder  of  the  full  sustaining 
power  being  thus  left  after  a  strong  percussion.  It  is  rather  a 
striking  effect,  but  only  rarely  applicable.  Liszt's  Sonata 
in  B  minor  offers  us  a  striking  instance: 


Example  85. 


1          t 

•^ —   ♦ 

♦       * 

**— 

— -£.              t 

( 

•0 'Pesante 

a  11                '         * 

1          1 

?       » 

t                f 

\ 

§.  &     # 

*       ti: 

u 

»§.  " 

SI 

£A_A_li> A A_l    2L-kJ  ^_jL_J  M I 


Cessation  of 
sound  as  a 
form  of 
emphasis. 


Another  point  as  to  Duration,  which  I  find  is  so  often 
overlooked  both  by  players  and  teachers,  is  the  fact  that 
we  can  produce  an  actual  emphasis  by  making  a  large  body 
of  sound  cease  accurately  and  sharply  on  a  beat  or  pulse. 
I  mean,  that  we  can  call  attention  to  a  pulse-place  (and 
thus  give  it  emphasis)  if,  after  sounding  and  holding  a  strong 
chord  with  the  pedal,  we  release  it  quite  suddenly,  and 


PEDALLING   AND    THE    ELEMENT  OF   DURATION 


137 


precisely  on  such  pulse.    Take  for  instance,  a  final  chord, 
thus: 

Example  86. 


We  also  employ  this  device  of  detachment  as  a  form  of  em- 
phasis in  ordinary  speech  at  times,  when  we  wish  to  be  par- 
ticularly assertive;  for  instance,  instead  of  gliding  over 
the  phrase  " NowOniindGyouGdoOthisO "  we  ejaculate: 
"Now!  mind — you  —  do  —  this!"  .  .  .  We  do  not  legato 
the  ejaculation  "Lookoutacariscoming,"  but  we  empha- 
sise it  by  a  staccato  "Look-out!"  from  the  rest  of  the 
shriek.1 

To  show  you  how  passages  can  be  enhanced  in  their 
emphasis  by  such  cutting  short  of  the  note-durations,  I 
will  give  you  the  first  entries  of  the  Solo  Piano  in  several  of 
the  Concertos  —  passages  meant  to  be  as  emphatic  and  as- 
sertive as  possible.  I  will  first  play  them  Pedal-legato,  and 
you  will  see  how  ineffective  they  are  thus,  and  I  will  then 
play  them  with  the  proper  detached  emphasis  —  by  judicious 
raising  of  the  Pedal,  thus : 


1  Mozart  said,  "Silence  is  the  greatest  effect  in  Music."  Indeed,  he 
well  knew  the  value  not  only  of  Duration-varieties,  but  the  value  of 
rests.  We,  now-a-days,  hardly  ever  have  the  courage  to  wait  a  bar  or 
two  in  complete,  striking  silence,  to  enable  the  ear  to  look  forward  to  the 
next  sound! 


138 

Example  87 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

From  Schumann's  Concerto. 


f  JP  »-jff?Jlf^f 

•"f^r* 

j  «    rt  ■ 

Ail 

If  4 

tV 

VJL^. 

AW:-      /»           A 

A           A 

A         A 

A 

A       P    P 

.P\ 

From  Grieg's  Concerto. 


PEDALLING   AND   THE   ELEMENT  OF   DURATION  139 

From  Rubinstein's  D  minor  Concerto. 


Example  89. 


Not:   £ 


From  A.  C.  Mackenzie's  "Scottish  Concerto."1 


Example  90. 


T%us:£ /\_l    £AAA_J     £ 

Not£. I 


±J    £J      3P     I 


1  By  kind  permission  of  the  composer. 


140 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 


)P    P    P      P    tP '}P  P  P 

Not:  P I 


P—liP I    PAP i     £j>£_l  P-AP-J    PjlPa*Pa> 

Not:  P A h 


Example  91. 


From  Liszt's  Concerto  in  E  flat. 


Thus:  P-i  P- 
JVbfc   lUa.e  ten. 


J  PAPA  PA  P I    P. 

I         P 


(as  usually  flayed) 


PEDALLING   AND    THE    ELEMENT  OF   DURATION  141 


£J    PA     P-\    P 


P     I     P    P  P 
\P—i    P 


Indeed,  quite  an  extraordinary  number  of  distinct  effects 
can  be  produced,  simply  by  careful  foot-cessations,  if  only 
we  give  the  requisite  study  to  this  important  matter  which 
it  so  urgently  needs,  and  closely  attend  —  and  listen  —  to 
Duration  all  the  time  we  are  playing  and  studying,  and  are 
Teaching.1 

Let  me  give  you  a  few  further  examples  bearing  on  these 
points.    For  varieties  of  short  basses: 


Example  92. 


From  D  flat  Waltz,  Chopin. 


■JP  fctz        ^7=] 

\prftff\ 

f-'  fr 

TSyr 

3       '  ' '. '..!..' 

■■4*&=- 

vr 

rf- 

etc. 

*          »••--■• 

ELagt   £-^  ' 

Thus:  JLj 
Not:.  P- 


JP— 


Pu 

JiL_ 


Jp- 


PJ 

J.£_ 


£J 


Imperative 
to  listen 
accurately 
and  con- 
stantly to 
duration. 


Various 
additional 
pedalling 
examples. 


1  While  it  is  not  accurate  to  assert  (as  has  been  done  by  an  enthusiast 
on  his  first  beginning  to  realise  the  potency  of  Pedalling)  that  "Seventy- 
five  per  cent  of  good  playing  is  correct  pedalling,"  it  is  imperative  to 
recognise  that  bad  pedalling  (and  inaccuracy  in  Duration-values  generally) 
will  indeed  only  too  easily  ruin  "75%"  —  and  much  more  —  of  ones 
playing! 


142 


Example  93. 


MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

From  F  minor  Study,  Chopin. 


To  give  the  "feathery"  effect  to  the  little  arpeggio  in  the 

right  hand: 

From  Beethoven's  Rondo  in  G. 
Example  94. 


PEDALLING   AND    THE   ELEMENT   OF   DURATION  143 

As  examples  of  "half-pedalling"  or  "  half  -damping" : 


From  G  minor  Ballade,  Chopin. 


Example  95. 


Remember  the  Note  as  to  Chopin's  pedalling,  page  89 ! 


Example  96a. 
Andante 


From  Albumblad  in  B-flat,  Grieg. 
ritard. 


Jwi 


144  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

And  from  the  same  little  piece : 

Example  966. 


t>  l  £ A- 


As  an  example  of  many  similar  half-pedalling  effects  re- 
quired in  Brahms: 


Episode  from  Rhapsody  in  G  minor,  Brahms. 


Example  97a. 


m.g. 


'J     *■       ,'|       I    J    <■       ,< 


t L 


Not  £. I      nor  £-J 


The  impressive  effect  of  this  passage  would  be  lost  were  the  Bass  ped- 
alled legato.  Sustaining  the  pedal  to  the  third  beat  would  still  sound 
clumsy;  hence  the  only  solution  is  to  "  half-pedal"  at  the  second  beat,  and 
to  make  a  complete  break  before  the  fourth  beat,  as  notated. 


PEDALLING   AND   THE   ELEMENT  OF   DURATION  145 

Coda  from  the  same  Rhapsody. 


Example  976. 


A_J A_J A A A A. 


£}  £-A 


Chopin  also  well  understood  this  effect : 

From  Coda  of  Prelude  in  A  flat,  Chopin. 


Example  98. 


sotto  voce 


146  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

As  an  example  of  Cessation-emphasis : 

Ballade  from  Op.  118,  Brahms. 
Example  99. 


1 

^^f^  t 

P 

> 

*— 

i 

; 

t\ 

j^ 

etc 

1  lJ    } 

Finally,  the  lecturer  (to  show  varieties  of  Pedal-effect)  played  some  pages 
of  Brahms'  Rhapsody  in  B  minor: 

Example  100. 


Pedal  thus:  p 

Knot  a  continuous  legato) 


£ I     £_J        p. I     P    I 


listen  both  I  think  I  have  shown  you  enough  to  convince  you  how 
to  finger  and  imperative  it  is  not  only  to  "listen  with  your  fingers,"  as 
foot  doings.    ^  gjnpjpjg  phrase  has  it  (and  a  very  useful  old  empiric 


PEDALLING   AND    THE   ELEMENT  OF   DURATION  147 

phrase  it  is)  but  also,  that  you  must  strive  to  "listen" 
just  as  accurately,  definitely,  and  purposefully  with  your 
foot.1 

It  is  not  a  complex  problem  at  all  if  we  only  cease  making 
distinctions  which  do  not  really  exist!  Be  it  right  hand  or 
left  hand,  or  any  finger-tip  of  either,  or  be  it  our  right  foot, 
they  are  all  but  part  of  us  —  part  of  our  body,  why  then 
delude  ourselves  into  considering  them  to  be  separate 
"things"?  All  are  able  to  send  sense-impressions  to  our 
brain  from  resistances  experienced  outside  our  bodies,  and 
all  must  help  in  providing  the  required  effects. 

Evidently,  whether  we  touch  the  piano  (and  act  upon  it)  Attention 
with  a  finger  or  a  foot,  it  is  always  "we"  —  ourselves,  who  durin*Per- 

...  .  fonnance. 

are  thus  deriving  impressions  from  the  instrument  (the 
piano  itself)  and  ordering  actions  outside  of  us  (and  within 
us)  in  consequence.  Why  then  have  bits  of  "we,"  a  right 
hand  bit,  or  a  left  hand  bit,  or  a  foot  bit?  Instead  of  all 
such  distinctions,  let  us  thoroughly  realise  that  we  must 
all  the  time  be  keenly  alert  to  what  our  sensation-apparatus 
as  a  whole  conveys  to  us  from  the  Piano,  so  that  we  may 
properly  order  and  time  the  musical  and  muscular  doing. 
The  sensation  of  key-resistance  and  the  sensation  of  pedal- 
resistance,  these  are  both  but  part  and  parcel  of  that  single 
thought  and  purpose,  summed  up  as  "performing-atten- 
tion"—  and  that  means:  attention  to  Music  —  through 
our  instrument. 

1  Foot  and  Finger  together  make  up  the  musical  effect  we  need,  there- 
fore do  not  let  us  separate  these  into  distinct  and  often  conflicting  depart- 
ments, but  let  them  always  act  in  consonance,  indeed  as  one  person. 
At  the  piano,  we  must  know  no  distinction  or  separateness  between  our 
right  and  left  hands,  neither  may  we  make  these  distinct  from  our  right 
Foot. 


SECTION  VI 

THE  PURPOSE  OF  ART-EXPRESSION  AND  ITS 
RELATION  TO  THE  INFINITE 

The  ever-  Coming  back  to  Nature  —  to  the  stillness  of  the  country, 

present  to  sky-expanse  and  wind-driven  cloud,  to  the  magic  of  the 

fbettine  woods  and  the  mystery  of  the  starlit-nights  —  a  funda- 
the  end  over  mental  truth  is  ever  insinuatingly  and  forcibly  driven  home 
the  means,  to  us.  There  is  a  paralysing  mistake  which  all  of  us  are 
only  too  liable  to  make  in  our  art-efforts.  In  giving  the 
necessarily  close  attention  to  the  wherewithal  of  Expres- 
sion, be  it  in  composition  or  in  performance,  painting  or 
poetising,  or  in  the  teaching  of  these  things,  there  is  always 
this  great  danger  lurking  for  us,  that  we  are  liable  not 
only  to  forget  Art  in  the  doing  of  it,  but  liable  to  forget 
what  should  be  the  purpose  of  Art  —  the  very  purpose  of  our 
pursuit! 

Brought  back  into  close  contact  with  unsullied,  un-brick- 
poisoned  Nature,  that  purpose  reasserts  itself  in  tones  that 
refuse  to  be  passed  by  unheeded. 
The  purpose       If  we  are  impressionable  —  and  we  cannot  be  artists 

o  art  is    e     yjjggg  we  ^g  —  we  find  that   things  m  Nature  and  in 

expression  of 

feeling.  Humanity    around    us    impress    us    strongly,    in    various 

ways,  and  arouse  in  us  vivid  feelings,  or  moods.  Now, 
the  purpose  of  Art,  whatever  its  form,  is  primarily  and 
mainly  the  expression  of  Moods  and  Feelings,  thus  en- 
gendered. 

If  then  we  would  be  Artists,  we  must  earnestly  and 
honestly  strive  to  do  neither  more  nor  less  than  to  give 

148 


PURPOSE   OP   ART-EXPRESSION  149 

expression  to  such  emotional  states,  moods,  or  feelings.  We 
must  use  our  intelligence  so  that  our  feelings  shall  be  duly 
expressed.  And  if  we  do  use  all  our  technical  resources  for 
this  sole  purpose,  we  may  possibly  succeed  in  producing  a 
real,  living  work  of  Art,  which,  being  vivid,  may  in  its  turn 
impress  others  with  a  mood,  feeling  or  emotional  state  — 
possibly  of  a  like  nature. 

The  attempt  to  write  notes,  or  play  them,  or  sing  them, 
or  to  recite,  or  paint,  or  versify,  unless  under  such  emotional 
stress,  can  only  lead  to  failure  —  sheer  waste  of  time,  sheer 
folly  so  far  as  true  Art  is  concerned.  "Nothing  can  only 
produce  —  Nothing ! " 

Of  course  it  does  not  follow,  that  even  if  we  do  try  our 
utmost  to  attend  to  the  mood  induced  in  us  by  Nature 
herself,  by  human  feeling,  or  by  some  real  work  of  art,  that 
therefore  we  ourselves  shall  succeed  in  producing  a  real 
work  of  art;  but  we  shall  know,  at  least,  that  we  are  on  the 
right  track.  The  other  ever  remains  empty  Nothingness, 
mere  pretence  and  hypocrisy —  Artisanship  maybe,  but  not 
Art! 

Also  there  always  remains  the  question,  what  mood?  —  Art-mood* 

but  that  is  another  story!    There  are  moods  that  raise  us  or  f1^  makeJ 

for  good  and 
help  us  to  raise  others,  —  moods  that  help  us  to  live  and  think  ^y^  ^.w, 

better;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  moods  which  have  for  evil, 
quite  the  reverse  effect.  .  .  .  Thus  we  may  have  Art  which 
is  a  mere  pandering  to  self  and  morbidity,  or  we  may 
have  Art  which  raises  our  thoughts  beyond  the  daily  neces- 
sity (and  struggle  very  often)  of  making  our  daily  bread. 
Art,  which  may  help  us  to  see  the  great  wonder  of  Nature 
around  us,  and  to  see  how,  in  our  own  lives,  we  can  be  more 
or  less  in  harmony  with  it,  if  we  but  try.  And  our  thoughts 
revert  to  those  real  masterpieces  of  Nature-music  of  which 


150  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

Beethoven  and  Bach,   for  instance,   have  given   us    so 
many.1 

Health  and  l  The  fact  of  our  being  at  all  "in  the  mood"  to  compose  or  perform  is, 
mood.  however,  a  question  quite  distinct  from  this  one. 

After  all  that  has  been  formulated  as  to  the  facts  of  doing,  we  are 
nevertheless  helpless,  unless  we  happen  to  be  in  such  a  performing  or 
composing  "mood"  or  humor  —  helpless,  so  far  as  the  attainment  of  any 
really  valuable  artistic  result  is  concerned. 

True,  a  knowledge  of  the  facts  and  laws  of  Expression  and  Technique 
will  enable  us  to  lessen  the  evil  effect  of  "non-mood,"  and  also  such  knowl- 
edge will  enable  us  better  to  express  ourselves  during  the  stress  of  so-called 
"Inspiration,"  but  the  exceedingly  exasperating  fact  remains,  that  in 
the  end  we  remain  very  much  at  the  mercy  of  our  bodily  moods  —  physi- 
cal moods  wrought  by  our  precise  state  of  health!  The  whole  question 
resolves  itself  ultimately  into  one  of  Vitality.  It  is  possible  that  we  may 
be  "in  the  mood"  or  "inspired"  when  the  thermometer  of  our  vitality  is 
high,  but  we  cannot  be  when  it  is  low  —  notwithstanding  what  seem  to 
be  occasional  exceptions  to  this  rule,  when  a  feverish  state  of  over-excite- 
ment stimulates  our  imagination,  and  simulates  the  effects  of  true  vigor- 
ous vitality.  It  is  when  our  vitality-thermometer  is  high  that  we  feel 
alert  and  keen  mentally,  find  ourselves  open  to  new  impressions,  and 
alive  to  the  promptings  of  a  healthy  imagination  vividly  active  for  the 
time.  But  when  the  tide  of  vitality  is  at  its  lower  ebb,  neither  can  we 
assimilate  new  impressions,  nor  will  our  brain  provide  any.  Moreover, 
these  mental  states  re-act  with  redoubled  effect  muscularly.  Remember, 
the  "natural"  state  of  the  muscles  is  one  of  tenseness,  not  one  of  relaxa- 
tion; this  is  the  meaning  of  "rigor  mortis."  In  order  to  relax  our  muscles 
we  must  use  up  vital  energy.  .Take  away  that  energy  and  they  close  up 
and  tighten. 

Thus  it  happens,  when  our  vitality  is  at  a  lower  ebb,  that  all  the  mus- 
cles of  our  body  tend  to  approximate  to  the  state  of  death;  there  be- 
comes evident  in  them  a  tendency  towards  less  promptitude  and  less  ease 
in  relaxation  than  obtains  during  our  moments  of  full  vital  energy.  Any 
gymnastic  action  or  exertion  (such  as  Pianoforte  playing  or  Singing,  etc.) 
which  we  may  undertake  under  such  unfavorable  conditions  of  mind 
and  body,  will  have  to  be  fulfilled  while  the  "opposite"  or  "contrary" 
muscles  remain  more  or  less  active  —  tense  and  impedimental  therefore. 

Here  we  see  why  it  is,  that  when  we  are  not  in  a  musical  mood  (i.e., 


PURPOSE   OP  ART-EXPRESSION  151 

Now,   these  thoughts  can  be  profitably  pursued  still  Thenatur» 
further,  and  to  good  practical  purpose.     In  the  factor  ~l"l^jr^1" 
which  all  sane  musicians  hold  and  consider  to  be  the  most  aU-pervading 
striking  manifestation  of  Music,  the  very  basis,  the  very  rhythm  and 
life  of  it,  we  shall  find  a  good  foundation  for  the  belief  to  the  J*" 
that  Music  is  intimate  with  Nature  herself.    This  factor  ^g^^ 
is  what  we  term  Pulse,  Time,  Accent,  that  is  —  Rhythm. 

It  has  been  conceded  by  many  that  Music  is  the  most 
powerful  of  the  arts,  that  it  is  the  art  which  brings  us 
most  intimately  into  communion  with  the  Ultimate  Un- 
knowable in  Nature,  that  it  seems  to  be  the  form  of  human 
thought  which  brings  us  nearest  to  an  overcoming  of  the 
very  limitations  of  our  Thought-mechanism  .  .  .  — that 
it  brings  us  most  nearly  into  contact  with  that  which  must 
forever  remain  outside  the  grasp  of  our  Mind. 

Now  the  reason  why  Music  is  thus  the  most  powerful  of 
the  Arts  lies  surely  in  its  immediate  relationship  (through 
Pulse,  Time  and  Accent)  to  the  cosmic  all-pervading  Rhythm 
—  its  relationship  to  the  ultimate  Fact  and  Being  of  the 
Universe? 

Most  of  us,  I  hope,  do  recognise  that  Music  is  indeed 
dead  as  a  door-nail  unless  the  keenest  sense  of  Pulse  and 
Accent  is  kept  alive  and  insisted  upon  by  teacher,  pupil 

not  in  a  state  of  general  alertness)  our  Technique  also  is  found  to  be  un- 
responsive, woefully  impoverished  and  nullified. 

It  is  our  vitality  which  is  the  ultimate  cause  of  our  seeing  vividly  what 
to  do,  our  vitality  again  which  leaves  our  muscles  unfettered  by  their 
fellows. 

If  we  bear  these  facts  in  mind,  we  can  however  in  some  measure  lessen 
the  evil  effects  of  the  muscular  tension  of  a  low  vitality,  by  inhibiting  the 
wrong  exertions,  by  trying  to  be  effortless,  by  trying  to  remember  the 
sensation  of  ease  experienced  at  more  favorable  times,  coupled  with  keen 
rhythmical  alertness,  and  thus  recall  somewhat  the  feeling  of  unrestrained, 
vigorous  rhythmical  doing  associated  with  our  moments  of  bright  vitality. 


152  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

and  performer.  Sounds,  however  finely  we  may  inflect 
their  tone  and  duration,  signify  nothing  unless  the  vital- 
ising basis  of  Rhythm  is  insisted  upon  —  in  the  form  of  a 
well-defined  Pulse,  and  in  the  form  of  constantly-continued 
accentuational  growth. 

It  is  indeed  solely  through  its  direct  appeal  to  our  sense 
of  Pulse-throb,  sense  of  rhythmical  growth  and  Progression, 
that  music  rouses  us  to  a  sense  or  feeling  of  something  vital 
and  alive.1 

Through  this  supreme  fact  of  its  manifestation,  Music, 
indeed,  brings  infinitude  itself  within  our  ken.  It  is  easy 
to  realise  why  this  is  so.  .  .  . 

Glibly  enough  do  we  speak  of  the  ultimate  unknowables, 
Time  and  Space.  But  we  do  not  always  realise,  that  while 
we  cannot  think  of  any  manifestation  of  Energy  or  Matter 
without  the  element  of  extension  in  Space,  nevertheless,  all 
manifestations  (whatever  their  nature,  including  those  of 
Thought  and  Consciousness  itself)  must  ultimately  resolve 
themselves  into  manifestations  of  Pulse  —  or  Extension  in 
time!  Pulse — Vibration — Rhythm,  indeed  pervades  every- 
thing; and,  in  fact,  constitutes  the  ultimate  of  all  that  is. 

If  we  look  around  us,  all  that  which  we  call  "life" 
exists  solely  by  nature  of  this  vitalising  element  of  Pulse, 
from  Humanity  down  to  the  mere  Diatom.  Again,  if 

we  look  outside  that  limited  series  of  manifestations  called 

1  Omit  this,  and  music  is  indeed  dead  and  useless  —  merely  a  succession 
of  "pretty  noises."  But  give  it,  and  then  with  it,  and  through  it  we  have 
the  strongest  appeal  to  the  very  fundamentals  of  our  nature  —  always 
provided  that  the  hearer  is  a  Seer  in  a  measure,  and  is  not  stone-blind 
or  deaf  to  musical  feeling  and  human  emotion.  Thus  we  gain  a  vision,  a 
faint  one  maybe,  but  a  convincing  one,  of  the  Something  which  is  the  very 
basis  of  Nature,  outside  our  thought  and  sense-perceptions.  Such  is  the 
wonderful  power  which  Music  can  have  over  us  —  the  power  of  opening 
up  to  us  a  glimpse  of  the  beyond! 


PURPOSE   OP   ART-EXPRESSION  153 

life,  and  on  a  starry  night  realise  the  unthinkable,  stupefying 
infinitudes  of  the  star-depths,  we  become  all  the  more 
conscious  of  this  persistence  of  the  element  of  Pulse,  or 
Rhythm!  If  we  turn  to  a  consideration  of  the  various 

manifestations  of  Energy  —  Sound,  Light,  Heat  and  Elec- 
tricity—  again  are  we  brought  face  to  face  with  the  almighty 
doings  of  Pulse,  —  Pulse,  in  the  form  of  infinitely  quick  vi- 
brations, still  more  overpowering  in  their  grandeur.  Nay, 
the  very  thing  we  call  Matter,  the  very  substances  which 
form  our  seemingly  inert  Earth  (with  all  its  metals,  its 
rocks,  and  its  gases)  do  we  not  find  that  even  this  seem- 
ingly "dead"  matter  in  the  end  probably  resolves  itself 
into  variously  constituted  manifestations  of  pulse  —  the 
Rhythm  of  "vortex  atoms?" 

Here  then,  we  are  face  to  face  with  that  One,  Allpervad- 
ing,  ultimate  Something  —  the  vitalising,  palpitating  factor, 
which,  although  forever  incomprehensible,  is  tremendous 
in  its  Almightiness.  In  a  word,  we  are  fain  to  feel 

that  we  are  here  face  to  face  with  that  ultimate,  Unknow- 
able Fact,  or  Presence  which  the  older  Religions  have 
with  one  accord  recognised  —  which  they  have  indefinitely 
felt  themselves  conscious  of  —  and  which  they  have  all  tried 
to  sum  up  in  the  same  Word.  .  .  . 

Because  it  is  the  essential  manifestation  of  that  prime  fact, 
because  Pulse  is  Life,  therefore  it  is  that  we  feel  Music  to 
be  alive  when  in  its  pursuit  we  do  act  in  consonance  and 
harmony  with  that  Supreme  Fact  .  .  .  and  are  therefore  in 
harmony  with  Nature  herself! 


SUMMARY 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  TEACHING  INTERPRETATION 

By  TOBIAS  MATTHAY 

(Report  of  a  Lecture  delivered  before  the  Manchester  and  the  Edinburgh 
Music  Teachers'  Associations  in  March,  1910,  and  before  the  London  Music 
Teachers'  Association  in  February,  1911,  etc.  This  appeared  in  The  Music 
Student  of  April,  1911,  and  is  here  reprinted  verbatim.) 

Mr.  Matthay  remarked  that  his  lecture  consisted  really 
of  six  lectures  compressed  into  one,  and  it  would  therefore 
be  of  inordinate  length.  For  this  reason,  also,  we  can  give 
but  a  resume^  of  this  lecture. 

Six  Important  Points  for  Piano  Teachers 

He  said:  "The  pursuit  implied  by  the  term  Piano-teach- 
ing is  so  enormously  complex,  that  at  first  glance  it  seems 
hopeless  to  try  to  cover  the  ground  in  one  short  discourse. 
All  one  can  do  is  to  select  some  of  the  more  salient  points 
where  the  young  teacher  (and  often  the  old  one  also)  is 
apt  to  fail.  It  is  therefore  understood  that  no  attempt  is 
here  made  to  deal  exhaustively  with  the  subject.  I  have 
selected  the  following  points:  (1)  the  difference  between 
Practice  and  mere  Strumming;  (2)  the  difference  between 
Teaching  and  Cramming;  (3)  how  the  pupil's  mind  can 
be  brought  upon  his  work;  (4)  correct  ideas  of  Time  and 
Shape;  (5)  the  element  of  Rubato;  and  (6)  the  element  of 
Duration  and  Pedalling." 

154 


SUMMARY  155 

What  is  Good  Teaching? 

Mr.  Matthay  continued,  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
make  clear  even  these  particular  essentials  of  teaching, 
without  first  taking  a  preliminary,  cursory  glance  at  the 
whole  problem  of  teaching.  To  begin  with,  we  could  not, 
accurately  speaking,  "teach"  anyone  anything,  in  the  sense 
of  being  able  directly  to  lodge  any  knowledge  of  ours  in 
another  mind.  One  could  only  stimulate  another  mind 
to  wish  to  learn,  and  place  before  that  other  mind  the  things 
desirable  to  be  learnt.  We  cannot  teach  others,  but  we 
can  help  them  to  learn. 

Here  we  come  at  once  to  one  of  the  special  points  to  be 
discussed,  the  difference  between  good  teaching  and  bad 
teaching,  viz.,  that  good  teaching  consists  not  in  trying  to 
make  the  pupil  "do  things' '  so  that  it  may  seem  like  playing, 
but  in  trying  to  make  him  think,  so  that  it  may  really  be 
playing.  In  the  first  place  we  try  to  turn  out  an  automaton, 
but  in  the  second  case  we  prompt  the  pupil  to  be  a  living 
intelligent  being. 

Pupils  usually  do  not  realise  that  it  is  they  who  have  to 
make  the  effort  to  learn;  hence,  that  is  the  first  thing  to 
make  plain  to  them.  True,  there  are  "direct"  and  empiric 
methods  of  teaching,  but  such  directness  can  only  refer  to 
the  method  of  placing  things  before  a  pupil.  Work  is  often 
brought  back  worse  than  at  the  preceding  lesson,  owing  to 
practice  having  been  purely  automatic.  Often  this  is  the 
pupil's  fault,  but  more  often  still,  the  teacher's,  owing  to 
his  not  having  shown  the  pupil  how  to  apply  his  brains 
during  practice. 

The  Necessity  of  Attention 

Practice  should  not  consist  in  trying  to  "make  the  piece 
go  better,"  but  in  trying  to  make  oneself  see  it  better  — 


156  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

understand  it  better  musically  and  technically.  This  im- 
plies a  constant  process  of  analysis  during  practice,  musical 
analysis  and  techmcal  analysis.  This  means  we  must  really 
listen,  both  outwardly  and  inwardly.  Nothing  is  more  fatal 
musically  than  omitting  to  do  this. 

To  try  to  draw  without  looking  at  the  paper  fr  no  worse 
than  trying  to  play  without  careful  aural  attention.  This 
is  where  "Ear-Training"  comes  in.  But  Ear-Training 
should  always  mean  training  the  mind  to  observe  and  analyse 
Pitch  and  Time  so  as  to  understand  Music  better,  and  should 
never  be  conducted  without  that  immediate  purpose  in 
view.  There  can  be  no  real  practice,  nor  real  lesson,  without 
insistence  all  the  time  on  such  real  Ear-Training.  All  this 
implies  the  closest  possible  attention  during  the  practice- 
hour.  Such  close  attention,  in  conjunction  with  a  keen 
imagination,  is  the  distinguishing  feature  between  the  work 
of  the  talented  and  un-talented  person.  One  can  therefore 
raise  one's  status,  musically,  simply  by  insisting  on  close 
attention  to  what  one  is  doing,  and  more  important  still, 
to  what  one  should  be  doing,  musically  and  technically. 

Such  persistent  use  of  the  judgement  and  imagination  is 
not  only  required  from  the  pupil,  but  also  from  the  teacher. 
As  teachers,  our  powers  must  be  applied,  analytically,  in  a 
two-fold  direction.  First,  we  must  analyse  the  music  we 
wish  to  teach,  its  Structure  and  its  Feeling;  and,  secondly, 
we  must  analyse  the  pupil's  doings,  comparing  them  to  this 
ideal  we  have  formed,  so  that  we  can  diagnose  exactly  where 
the  pupil  fails,  and  why  he  fails.  Such  analysis  comes  under 
four  headings :  (a)  we  must  analyse  what  the  pupil  is  actually 
doing;  (b)  we  must  analyse  the  faults  thereby  perceived; 
(c)  we  must  analyse  why  the  pupil  is  making  those  faults; 
and  (4)  we  must  analyse  the  pupil's  attitude  of  mind,  so 
that  we  may  know  how  to  treat  him. 


SUMMARY  157 

The  Use  and  Misuse  of  Example 

The  lecturer  here  took  these  matters  in  detail.  He  then 
pointed  out  that  teachers  must  learn  to  explain  every  point, 
and  must  besides  educate  themselves  as  musicians  and  as 
actual  performers,  so  as  to  be  able  to  demonstrate  the 
various  points  by  actual  example  when  necessary.  Ex- 
ample, by  itself,  however,  was  shown  to  be  useless,  as  its 
tendency  is  here  again  to  turn  the  pupil  into  "an  automatic 
ape" — example  should  always  be  accompanied  by  full 
explanation  as  to  shape  and  feeling,  the  purpose  of  the 
means  of  expression  applied.  The  opening  bars  of  Schu- 
mann's Warum  were  here  played,  and  it  was  shown  how 
an  inexperienced  pupil  would  turn  this  into  a  laughable 
parody  unless  such  explanations  were  given. 

Enthusiasm 

Allusion  was  then  made  to  the  necessity  for  enthusiasm, 
for  unless  the  teacher  could  all  the  time  show  himself  really 
interested  in  his  work,  he  could  not  expect  his  pupils  to 
give  the  truly  exhausting  attention  required  if  really  good 
work  was  to  be  accomplished.  And  enthusiasm  would 
grow  in  us,  if  we  but  tried  our  best  all  the  time.  Enthusiasm, 
however,  would  not  suffice  by  itself.  The  teacher  must  not 
only  be  willing  to  help,  but  must  know  how  to  do  so,  other- 
wise his  work  would  after  all  prove  a  failure. 

Cramming  v.  the  Cultivation  of  Judgement  and  of  Imagination 

Mr.  Matthay  next  considered  the  radical  distinction 
between  useful  teaching  and  useless  teaching. 

The  wrong  attitude  is,  to  try  to  make  the  pupil  directly 
imitate  the  musical  effects,  the  "points,"  etc.,  which  your 
musical  sense  tells  you  are  required,  but  without  explaining 


158  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

the  why  and  wherefore  musically.  Thus  you  turn  your  pupil 
into  a  mere  responsive  automaton,  a  Trilby  to  your  Sven- 
galism.  This  is  sheer  "cramming/'  and  can  have  no  abiding 
influence  educationally. 

The  right  attitude  is  to  insist  on  your  pupil  trying  to  see 
for  himself  all  the  time,  to  the  best  of  his  capacity,  musically 
and  technically.  You  must  force  him  to  use  his  own  judge- 
ment and  imagination,  so  that  that  may  prompt  him  all  the 
time;  and  you  must  guide  that  judgement  and  imagination 
all  the  time,  so  that  right  seeing  and  thinking  is  learnt. 

In  the  first  case  you  teach  your  pupil  to  play  without 
thinking,  whereas  in  the  second  case  you  teach  him  to 
play  because  he  is  thinking,  and  is  thinking  rightly. 

Two  Main  Points  —  "Key-Resistance"  and  the  "Time-Spot" 

To  bring  your  pupil's  mind  on  his  work,  you  must  insist 
on  two  main  points.  You  must  teach  him  to  attend,  in 
the  first  place,  to  "Key-resistance,"  and,  in  the  second  place, 
to  "Time-spot,"  and  by  this  means  you  ensure  musical 
attention  —  attention  to  musical  shape  and  f eeling. 

By  attention  to  key-resistance  is  meant  a  constant  atten- 
tion to  the  obstruction  the  key  offers  before  and  during  its 
descent.  As  this  resistance  varies  with  every  difference  in 
the  tone  you  are  making,  you  can  thus  judge  (and  by  this 
means  only)  what  force  to  apply,  so  that  you  may  obtain 
the  tone  musically  desired. 

By  attention  to  "Time-spot"  is  meant  that  you  must 
realise  that  all  music  implies  Progression,  and  you  must  use 
your  inward  ear  and  your  outer  physical  ear  to  determine 
where  in  the  musical  progression  each  and  every  sound  is 
precisely  due.  You  must  make  clear  to  the  pupil  that 
sounds  have  no  musical  significance  whatever  unless  they 
are  made  to  suggest  Progression:  there  must  always  be  a 


SUMMARY  159 

sense  of  Progression,  or  movement  towards  definite  landmarks 

—  a  growth  with  a  definite  purpose,  a  rhythmical  and 
emotional  purpose.  This  principle  of  progression  applies 
equally  to  the  smallest  segments  of  music,  and  to  the  largest; 

—  it  applies  whether  we  deal  with  a  progression  merely  of 
three  notes,  or  a  complete  phrase,  or  a  whole  movement.  No 
child  should  ever  be  allowed  to  touch  the  piano  without  being 
at  once  shown  how  this  principle  of  progression  onwards, 
towards  cadences,  etc.,  applies  everywhere.  Mr.  Matthay 
illustrated  all  these  points  and  went  into  a  mass  of  detail;  he 
also  said  that  he  had  pointed  out  the  importance  of  this 
idea  of  progression  and  "scanning"  of  the  music  during  the 
last  20  years  of  his  teaching  life,  and  in  his  First  Principles 
(Advice  to  Teachers),  but  that  the  passage  was  often  passed 
by,  without  its  being  realized  that  it  applies  during  every 
minute  of  one's  teaching  life.  He  pointed  out,  further, 
that  only  by  strict  attention  to  this  principle  of  progression 
could  one  ensure  the  correction  of  "sloppiness"  in  passage- 
work,  and  learn  to  play  the  notes  in  between  the  pulses 
accurately  and  musically. 

This  matter  was  illustrated,  as  also  the  fact  that  octave 
passages,  etc.,  divided  between  the  two  hands,  still  depended 
on  the  same  mental  principle;  unless  indeed,  the  student 
had  not  learnt  the  right  ways  of  Technique,  had  not  mas- 
tered the  "Act  of  Resting,"  when  he  would  here  fail  owing 
to  his  being  unable  to  express  himself  properly.  It  was 
pointed  out  that  to  keep  this  principle  of  progression  in  view 
while  playing  a  long  extended  movement,  is  indeed  the  hard- 
est task  a  player  has  to  deal  with;  and  that  success  here 
depends,  mainly,  on  an  accurate  memory  of  the  proportionate 
importance  of  all  the  component  progressions  of  the  piece; 
and  upon  a  constant  self-control  in  executing  the  musical 
picture  thus  to  be  realised  as  a  perfect  whole. 


160  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

Continuity  and  Rubato 

Mr.  Matthay  then  showed,  that  to  enable  one  to  ren- 
der a  piece  continuous  in  performance,  the  tempo  must  be 
continuous,  although  it  also  depended  on  a  correct  laying 
out  of  tone- values  and  of  the  emotional  stress.  "  Remem- 
ber/ '  he  said,  "a  new  Tempo  means  a  new  piece  —  a  new 
train  of  thought,  and  that  each  change  of  Tempo  needs  a 
new  adjustment  of  the  listener's  attention.  Constantly  re- 
curring ritardos,  and  accellerandos,  unless  on  a  large  scale, 
are  therefore  fatal  to  Continuity.  But  we  cannot  express 
ourselves  adequately  without  Time-in flections,  hence  the 
necessity  of  Rubato."  Rubato  was  shown  to  be  requisite 
in  all  music,  although  some  of  the  older  masters  required 
it  less  than  do  our  modern  composers.  Rubato  should  be 
taught  even  to  children  —  real  Rubato,  not  playing  out  of 
time. 

The  illustrations  of  Rubato  were  specially  chosen  to  prove 
their  necessity  even  in  Beethoven  and  Bach,  although 
Rubato  requires  subtle  application  in  these  masters.  Rubato 
might  extend  over  a  few  notes  only,  or  over  whole  phrases. 
Rubato  was  shown  to  be  of  two  distinct  kinds:  (a)  where, 
for  the  sake  of  emphasising  a  note  or  several  notes,  we  delay 
the  time,  and  must  then  make  good  the  time  by  hastening 
the  subsequent  notes  so  as  to  return  to  the  pulse  at  the 
crisis  of  the  phrase,  etc. ;  and  (b)  where,  for  the  sake  of  the 
agitato  effect,  we  begin  by  hastening  the  phrase,  and  must 
then  delay  the  subsequent  notes  so  as  to  bring  us  back 
again  to  the  pulse  at  the  chief  syllable  of  the  phrase  —  near 
its  end.  These  two  forms  can  be  combined  even  during 
the  course  of  a  single  phrase,  and  often  are.  In  all  cases 
it  is  of  primary  importance  to  determine  exactly  where  we 
must  return  to  the  pulse,  and  also  to  determine  the  cause 


SUMMAKY  161 

of  the  Rubato  —  whether  caused  in  the  first  instance  by  a 
retardation  or  by  an  accelleration.  The  actual  degree  and 
curve  of  the  Time-swerve  must,  however,  be  left  to  the 
fancy  of  the  moment,  and  the  effects  must  never  be  applied 
so  as  to  become  noticeable  as  such.  These  points  were 
made  clear  by  the  lecturer  by  means  of  short  excerpts,  show- 
ing, for  instance,  how  impossible  a  Chopin  Nocturne  would 
be  without  Rubato. 

The  next  point,  likewise  brought  home  by  examples, 
was  to  prove  how  a  Rubato  would  serve  to  make  clear  the 
climax  of  a  phrase  in  spite  of  a  diminuendo.  It  was  pointed 
out  that  the  most  striking  emphasis  we  can  give  to  any  note 
is  its  coincidence  with  the  pulse  after  that  has  been  swerved 
from  during  a  Rubato. 

It  was  also  shown,  by  examples  from  Chopin,  etc.,  how 
Rubato  is  required  to  depict  agitated  feelings  —  whereas, 
to  give  the  effect  of  decision,  calmness,  truculence,  etc.,  we 
must  avoid  Rubato  for  the  moment. 

In  passages  consisting  of  notes  of  contrasting  length,  the 
tendency  should  be  to  emphasise  these  differences  by  giving 
proportionately  more  time  to  the  longer  notes  and  less  to 
the  shorter  ones;  and  incidentally  we  should  find  that  the 
same  rule  applies  with  regard  to  tone-variety,  the  tone  vary- 
ing somewhat  in  accordance  with  the  length  of  the  notes. 

A  somewhat  related  tonal  effect  is  required  when  we 
continue  a  phrase  after  a  long  note  or  rest  —  we  must  re- 
start the  continuation  with  far  less  tone  than  was  given  to 
the  last  long  note,  otherwise  we  should  have  the  effect  of 
a  new  phrase  there. 

Tone  Contrasts 

Mr.  Matthay,  after  exemplifying  this,  said  the  importance 
of  Rubato  does  not  minimise  the  importance  of  Tone- 


162  MUSICAL   INTERPRETATION 

contrasts  and  contrasts  of  Duration;  but  the  absence  of 
both  these  last  is  also  often  overlooked  by  the  teacher. 
Although  made  miserable  by  their  absence  in  the  pupils' 
performances,  the  teacher,  owing  to  his  not  noticing  the 
real  reason  of  his  discomfort  failed  to  make  the  slight  effort 
necessary  to  remedy  these  things.  Most  of  the  failure  does 
not  arise  from  paucity  of  tone,  but  from  the  absence  of  low 
tints.  Most  students,  in  fact,  never  get  near  a  pianissimo, 
and  accompaniments  are  always  played  far  too  loudly; 
this  was  exemplified  by  a  few  bars  from  the  opening  of  the 
4 'Moonlight "  Sonata,  it  being  pointed  out  that  the  difference 
between  the  good  and  evil  rendering  was  attributable  solely 
to  the ' '  cutting  away ' '  of  tone  in  the  first  instance.  Students 
also  invariably  played  the  beginnings  of  phrases  far  too 
high  up  in  tone,  hence  their  failure  to  show  the  climaxes. 
With  regard  to  the  actual  teaching  of  the  wherewithal 
of  tone-contrasts  —  the  teaching  of  Touch,  the  rationale  of 
the  processes  of  producing  Tone,  Duration  and  Agility, 
there  could  of  course  be  no  teaching  worthy  the  name  unless 
these  things  were  all  the  time  most  fully  explained  and  made 
clear  to  the  pupil.  Even  Germany,  where  instruction  in 
these  matters  had  been  so  hideously  bad,  even  Germany  was 
now  waking  up  to  these  requirements  of  the  present  day. 

Pedalling 

The  lecturer  then  went  on  to  the  subject  of  Pedalling, 
which  he  said  was  mostly  so  badly  overlooked  that  even 
artists'  performances  were  often  no  better  than  a  child's 
daubs.  It  was  pitiable  to  see  the  amount  of  care  sometimes 
bestowed  on  making  the  fingers  execute  good  phrasing, 
duration  and  coloring,  when  in  the  meantime  the  whole 
effect  was  wiped  out  by  the  right  foot.  The  fault  could  in 
most  cases  be  again  traced  to  sheer  non-attention  to  the 


SUMMARY  163 

actual  sounds  coming  from  the  piano  —  playing  being  too 
often  regarded  as  a  mere  muscular  exercise  instead  of  the 
making  of  musical  sounds  for  a  musical  purpose. 

Mr.  Matthay  here  demonstrated  the  striking  contrasts 
to  be  obtained  merely  by  varying  the  duration  of  sounds; 
and  pointed  out,  as  to  the  details  of  pedalling,  that  we  have 
to  learn  to  syncopate  the  pedal  in  legato  and  in  legatissimo, 
and  further  to  learn  the  value  of  incomplete  tenuti,  empha- 
sis by  the  cutting  short  of  a  sustained  effect  at  a  pulse,  and 
half-pedalling  effects,  all  of  which  matters  received  full  illus- 
tration. This  matter  was  summed  up  by  saying  that  we 
must  always  remember  that  music  depends  not  only  on  our 
fingers  but  also  on  our  right  foot. 

Sincere  Art 

In  his  peroration,  Mr.  Matthay  indicated  how  Musical 
Art  was  always  on  the  wrong  path  unless  it  was  employed 
to  depict  things  felt  and  experienced.  To  be  sincere,  Art 
must  always  be  used  for  the  purpose  of  expressing  Mood  or 
Feeling.  But  it  did  not  follow  that  by  making  this  en- 
deavor we  should  succeed,  although  we  should  be  working 
in  the  right  direction.  Also,  there  was  the  question  as  to 
the  appropriateness  of  the  moods  chosen  to  be  expressed. 
Mr.  Matthay  then  tried  to  show  that  in  the  true  basis  of 
Music  —  Pulse,  Rhythm,  Progression  —  we  could  find  the 
reason  of  its  great  power  over  the  emotions,  this  basis 
bringing  it  into  intimate  union  with  all  the  vital  manifesta- 
tions of  Nature,  and  with  the  ultimate  hidden  facts  of  the 
Universe  and  Infinitude  itself. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES 


No.  I.— ON  HALF-PEDALLING  AND  HALF-DAMPING 

Reference  has  been  made,  on  page  134,  etc.,  to  the 
many  possibilities  offered  by  allowing  the  Pedal  to  remain 
up  too  short  a  time  to  damp  out  the  Bass  strings.  Yet 
another  Pedal  effect,  however,  remains  to  be  noted. 

This  is  obtained  by  purposely  depressing  the  Pedal  only 
sufficiently  just  to  ease  the  dampers  off  the  strings.  With 
the  dampers  in  this  condition  (not  fully  pressing  on  their 
strings)  any  notes  sounded,  and  particularly  the  lower 
ones,  will  faintly  continue  sounding  in  spite  of  the  keys 
being  allowed  to  rise.  This  renders  possible  "atmospheric' ' 
effects  not  attainable  by  ordinary  full  pedalling,  or  by  the 
half -damping  (or  pedalling)  previously  described.  I  suspect 
it  is  an  effect  most  of  us  have  used  all  our  artistic  lives 
without  being  aware  of  doing  so!  Nevertheless,  like  the 
previously  described  "half-pedalling,"  it  also  offers  great 
possibilities  when  musically  applied.  For  instance,  take 
the  return  to  the  first  subject  in  the  slow  movement  of 
Beethoven's  Sonata  in  G,  Op.  31,  No.  1.  To  keep  the 
Pedal  fully  depressed  for  the  whole  bar  of  left-hand 
semiquavers: 


Example  101.         ,mm 


//       // 


(or  even  during  a  complete  group  only)  would  render  this 
passage  far  too  heavy  and  clumsy.  Whereas,  without  any 
Pedal  whatever,  the  effect  would  be  absurdly  pedantic  and 
unsympathetic — not  in  the  least  suggestive  of  that  sense  of 
String-Quartet  playing  evident  throughout  this  movement. 
The  only  true  solution  is  to  use  the  Pedal  just  slightly 
depressed,  as  here  in  question — enough  slightly  to  loosen 

164 


ADDITIONAL   NOTES  165 

the  pressure  of  the  dampers  upon  the  strings;  and  a  slight 
blurred  resonance,  or  reverberation,  is  thus  achieved,  in 
keeping  with  the  gentle  character  of  the  passage. 

Similarly,  a  rising  arpeggio  with  Pedal  fully  depressed 
is  quite  a  gross  effect  compared  to  the  same  arpeggio  with 
the  dampers  only  just  eased  off  the  strings. 

This  form  of  pedalling  also  solves  many  problems  in 
BACH-playing,  since,  to  my  mind,  it  may  be  applied,  on 
occasion,  without  entailing  much  loss  in  clearness  of  part- 
playing,  which  would  certainly  happen  with  ordinary  fully 
depressed  Pedal. 

With  regard  to  Nomenclature,  it  is  most  unfortunate 
that  the  terms  half-pedalling  and  half-damping  have  been 
so  loosely  used.  May  I  now  plead  that  "half-pedalling" 
be  restricted  to  that  sharp  up-and-down  movement  of 
the  Pedal  which  allows  us  to  continue  Bass-notes  under 
changing  harmonies  above;  and  that  "half -damping"  be 
restricted  to  this  playing  with  the  dampers  not  fully  active 
(half  "off"  the  strings)  which  has  given  rise  to  this  Note? 
Also,  it  would  be  well  to  restrict  the  sign  P___/\_  J  to  the 
notation  of  the  &a(f-pedalling  device,  as  shown  on  page  136, 
and  not  (as  some  have  unfortunately  done)  to  the  expres- 
sion of  Zegrafo-pedalling — for  which  a  more  correct  notation, 
anyway,  would  be  P |  |  .      Notation  becomes  con- 

fusing unless  there  is  unanimity  in  its  application. 

Finally,  it  is  well  to  remind  the  student — and  the  artist — 
that  the  most  important  point  in  pedalling  is  not  the 
sustaining  of  sound  but  the  stopping  of  sound! 

In  this  connection,  I  am  often  asked  whether  the  old 
rule  still  holds  good — that  the  Pedal  should  never  be  used 
during  a  scale  passage?  Indeed,  it  is  quite  a  good  rule, 
but  needs  breaking  at  times !  Passages  with  passing-notes 
(such  as  the  scale)  in  the  lower  registers  cannot  be  sustained 
by  the  Pedal  without  very  ill  effect.  On  the  other  hand, 
scales  high  up  can  often  bear  pedalling  while  the  harmonies 


166  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

beneath  are  sustained.  Also  one  can  sometimes  use  the 
extreme  effect  of  holding  the  Pedal  throughout  a  rapidly 
played  rising  scale,  provided  the  resulting  roar  be  promptly 
stopped  with  the  last  note.  I  should  venture  thus  to  play 
those  last  rising  scales  near  the  close  of  Chopin's  Ballade 
in  G  minor — and  also  the  forte  rising  scale  in  Brahms's 
Rhapsody  in  B  minor,  Op.  76. 

To  my  mind,  a  very  charming  effect  can  sometimes  be 
obtained  by  holding  the  Pedal  throughout  a  rising  scale 
in  the  right  hand,  while  the  left  hand  silently  "picks  up" 
(depresses  the  notes  of)  the  implied  harmony  in  the  middle 
of  the  instrument,  which  harmonies  are  then  disclosed, 
sounding,  when  the  Pedal  is  raised  at  the  end  of  such  scale. 
I  should  not  hesitate  to  use  this  device,  for  instance,  even 
in  certain  scales  in  the  C  minor  and  D  minor  Fantasias  of 
Mozart ! 

Many  cases  will  suggest  themselves  where  a  similar 
"trick"  pedalling  and  subsequent  holding  of  picked-up 
notes  will  be  felt  to  be  quite  sound,  artistically  and 
musically. 

No.  II.- ON  THE  COLOURING  OF  OCTAVES  AND 
PASSING-NOTES 

In  connection  with  the  colouring  of  octaves,  another 
point  should  be  noted.  When  octaves,  etc.,  are  divided 
between  the  hands  with  the  left  hand  an  octave  lower 
than  the  right  hand,  care  must  be  taken  properly  to  resolve 
any  passing-notes  that  may  occur,  as  everywhere  else. 
The  resolution  of  a  passing-note  always  needs  carefully 
adjusting  tonally — the  note  ornamented  must  at  least  be  of 
eaual  value  tonally  to  the  ornament  that  'precedes  it.  There- 
fore, in  such  octave  passages,  etc.,  alternating  between  the 
hands  the  little  finger  must  be  kept  well  under  in  tone,  else 
the  effect  will  prove  extremely  harsh;  and  the  harmonic 


ADDITIONAL    NOTES 


167 


progression  must  be  made  clear  by  making  the  tone  of  the 
alternating  thumbs  match  in  colour.     Thus,  for  instance: 


Example  102. 


I9- 


Example  103. 


Also  see  the  two  passages  given  as  Example  22,  on  page  52. 


No.  III.— TONE-COLOURING  v    TONE-INFLECTION 


A  point  often  overlooked  is  the  difference  between 
Inflection  and  Colouring,  in  its  proper  sense.  Loosely 
used,  we  apply  the  term  "colouring"  to  any  of  the  three 
possible  forms  of  expression — variety  of  Tone,  Duration, 
and  Time  (Rubato),  whether  used  to  denote  merely  inflec- 
tion from  note  to  note,  or  to  denote  those  larger  stretches 
of  colouring  which  deserve  the  term  Instrumentation — a 
thing  closely  akin  to  Orchestration,  but  not  quite  the  same. 

It  is  this  last  aspect  of  expression,  Instrumentation, 
which,  strictly  speaking,  should  alone  be  termed  Colouring, 


168  MUSICAL    INTERPRETATION 

i.e.,  a  laying  out  of  one's  work  in  large  schemes  and  levels 
of  expression.  Hence,  Colouring  includes  Inflection,  but 
not  vice  versa.  You  can,  for  example,  have  considerable 
stretches  of  forte  colour  or  piano  colour — while  the  note- 
to-note  inflections  are  nevertheless  in  evidence;  whereas 
you  can  quite  easily  inflect  all  through  a  piece  without 
displaying  any  distinct  schemes  of  colour-level  whatever. 
Similarly  in  composition,  some  of  the  great  Masters  were 
great  colourists  and  some  were  not.  Schumann,  for  instance, 
is  rather  badly  lacking  in  this  sense;  whereas  Beethoven 
has  it  highly  developed.  Chopin's  Piano  writing  shows  it 
finely,  and  certainly  Liszt  had  marvellous  feeling  for  it. 
Consider,  for  instance,  how  well  Beethoven  has  laid  out 
the  first  movement  of  his  Sonata  in  E  minor,  Op.  90,  in 
this  respect — contrasting  the  various  registers  of  the  instru- 
ment. Schumann,  no  doubt,  would  have  written  it  all  in 
the  middle  of  the  instrument !  Again,  examine  in  this  light, 
say  Liszt's  Rhapsody  No.  12,  in  C  sharp  minor,  and  realise 
how  gloriously  effective  is  its  laying-out  in  large  schemes 
of  Piano-colour  devices,  or  his  "Waldesrauschen" — true 
Instrumentation,  and  what  a  lesson  in  Piano- writing!  The 
old  Harpsichord  or  Virginal  writers  and  players  perforce 
were  colourists.  You  could  not  inflect  tone  from  note  to 
note  on  those  instruments;  all  you  could  do  was  to  play 
successive  phrases  with  various  timbres,  either  by  pulling 
out  stops  or  using  different  keyboards — a  fact  which  must 
be  borne  in  mind  when  trying  to  play  Scarlatti,  Purcell,  etc. 
For  a  Pianist,  however,  to  achieve  greatness,  he  must 
anyway  have  mastered  both  the  art  of  Inflection  and  of 
Colouring.  Inflections  are  necessary  from  note  to  note, 
but  it  is  by  carefully  considering  Colouring  that  breadth 
of  effect  can  alone  be  secured. 


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